


add a star to a star

by fruti2flutie



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, M/M, Slow Build, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruti2flutie/pseuds/fruti2flutie
Summary: Daehwi is a high school sophomore, daydreaming out windows and running lines of color across the canvas of his arms. Jinyoung is a high school sophomore, getting used to a new school and trying his hardest not to fall through the cracks again. It’s just that simple. (And this is the part where Samuel butts his head in, quotes some Shakespeare, and then they think to themselves how very wrong they are.)





	1. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daehwi is a dreamer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -title taken from ["star of stars" by snuper](https://youtu.be/eifrBiNTU88)  
> -fic style is alternating between daehwi and baejin's "perspectives." character tags are added as i see fit... also, the trainers are teachers bc i miss them lol  
> -this is nowhere near done, and i don't have any idea when it'll be finished... but, for the most part, i got most of the outline done! like all my stories, this is cliche and full of fluff. there's also a decent amount of angst i'll include, but that's for a later time.  
> -all kudos & comments are appreciated! again, this isn't done so i have no clue when i'll have the complete fic posted TT i just wanted to post what i have because i love wanna one :D

“Are you drawing on yourself again?”

Daehwi refuses to look up from where he’s meticulously shaping a blue whale on his forearm, trying his hardest not to break his concentration. It’s amidst a dozen other sea animals, all of which are either extremely realistic or extremely cartoonish. His whale falls into the latter category, with rounded blubber and pink marker used to shade in the blush of its cheeks. It looks a little strange next to the hyper realistic seahorse he’d drawn ten minutes ago.

“Lee Daehwi, I will not repeat myself.”

The line of the whale’s tail gets smudged as Daehwi accidentally presses onto it with the back of his hand. He holds in a sigh — the struggles of being left-handed.

“Sorry, Mr. Lee,” Daehwi says, putting down his marker. The rest of the class snicker amongst themselves. Daehwi swears he sees Dongbin snort, which is ugly, and he’ll make fun of him for it in homeroom. “I got distracted.”

Mr. Lee shakes his head, disappointed. “Excuses, excuses. This is the third time this week, Daehwi. Next time I catch you, it’s detention. Do you hear me?”

Daehwi nods. “Loud and clear.” He shifts the rainbow sweatband on his wrist to cover most of the drawings, sitting back and cracking open his notebook.

“Great. I’m sure your soulmate appreciates it when you keep your hands free of ink. Lord only knows what that person has to go through because of you.” Mr. Lee walks to the front of the classroom. “Now, as I was saying, cations are positively charged particles with less electrons than protons...”

——

Finding one’s soulmate is so obscure, so tedious, no one really cares for looking anymore. Modern day romance typically revolves on meeting someone, checking compatibility, and going from there. If they happen to be their soulmate, great. If not, no one really minds. Not many people go out of their way to figure out whether their significant other is their destined partner. Frankly, the whole process is so strange to comprehend.

Soulmates are able to write on their own skin and have the writing then show up on their soulmate’s. There have been countless tests and studies done on the subject matter, how and why it works.While the _why_ part of the topic is still under scrutiny, the _how_ of soulmates is well understood.

Erasing only works one-way. Only certain types of ink and textures cause reactions. The reactions begin occurring when the soulmates involved are born. As of now, the highest amount of documented soulmates is five. The chances of meeting one’s soulmate(s) are roughly four out of ten; the chances of staying with one’s soulmate(s) afterwards is four out of five.

It’s no science, but that’s how the world works. Fate. Destiny. Love and friendship.

Way back when, people would communicate with their soulmates with the writing. To try to find one another, amidst high winds and cold waters, traveling across lands and oceans. However, fate and destiny being so readily available led the world to become inattentive and, in a way, lazy.

First, finish school. Get a job. Find soulmates later. Instead of prioritizing soulmates, individualistic values are held at a higher standard. _Later_ has become more and more inconvenient for these goals, so society as a whole has pushed the soulmate agenda under the radar. There’s no need for it.

People are content with not finding their soulmates. The marks that appear on their skin can easily be removed. Happiness can still be achieved without a soulmate. Having one is so casual that even if someone doesn’t, there’s no negative retribution. People are still people. Life goes on.

As more information is learned about soulmates, people continue to realize happiness isn’t guaranteed when soulmates find one another. It’s not some sudden fairytale, love at first sight sort of deal. No, soulmates are _regular_ people, learning how to love just like the rest of the world.

Daehwi is the kind of person one would call a “romanticist.” He’s only fifteen, but he’s dreamed of finding his soulmate. Someone kind, humble, caring. When he was young, his mother had entertained him with the love story of her and his late father, an anecdote that put him at ease to fall into a wistful sleep. Daehwi is one of the few who still dreams for their soulmate.

That’s why Daehwi loves drawing on his skin. Back in elementary school, after the lesson on soulmate writing, Daehwi had immediately asked his mother for a set of colorful non-toxic markers. Ever since, he’s spent years decorating his skin, hoping his soulmate can see his clumsy, messy, yet always improving art.

To this day, there’s never been a proper response. Daehwi draws and writes nearly every day but with no reply to show for it. He knows he has a soulmate, though; Daehwi has seen stray ink smudges on his wrists not brought on by his own hand. Daehwi knows that they’re out there.

So Daehwi keeps drawing. He carries around a sketchbook in his backpack, filled with pencil sketches and color splotches. Animals are his favorite category to focus on, next to food and flowers. He’s part of the art club, a proud member, and known around the school as the guy who’s obsessed with his soulmate.

Truthfully, that isn’t the case at all. If Daehwi was obsessed, he’d be searching for his soulmate at this very moment. Right now, Daehwi is too preoccupied learning about chemistry and algebra to play with the hands of fate.

Daehwi will meet his soulmate, one day, far in the future. Until then, he’ll keep drawing all over his skin, a daily reminder to his soulmate that Daehwi is always there for them. Whether or not he gets a response doesn’t matter. Maybe, just maybe, they’re waiting for him as much as he is them.

——

The last bell of the school day chimes throughout the halls. Daehwi’s classmates say goodbye to him while he puts away his notebooks and binders. When nearly everyone has left the classroom, Daehwi takes out his phone to take a picture of his arm.

Documenting the drawings on his arm has been his own personal journal. He’d started doing it last year, realizing how much he drew on himself but never remembered what he’d done the day before. By taking photos, he gets to see what he’s drawn daily and how much he’s improved.

After taking the photo, he gets up from his desk and heads to the front gate. There’s no need for him to stop by his locker, so he beats the after school rush of students skipping down the stairs.

Donghyun’s silver sedan is parked at the curb, amongst parents waiting for their children. The older male is adjusting the radio, all the windows rolled down, arm hanging out languidly. Daehwi taps the roof of the car to get Donghyun’s attention.

“Hey, hyung! Did you wait long?” Daehwi tosses his backpack in the backseat and climbs in the front. “Where’s Woojin hyung?”

Donghyun pulls out his iPhone, scrolling through his messages. “According to this very cryptic text sent three minutes ago,” he starts. He sighs. “Detention.”

Daehwi gasps as he buckles his seatbelt. “What? No way!” He rolls his window up halfway, conscientious of his hair.

“We’ve only been in school for two weeks, and he’s already had detention twice.” Donghyun drives off the school grounds, tutting under his breath. “I thought Youngmin hyung and I taught him better.”

Pursing his lips, Daehwi guiltily stares down at his lap. “Honestly, I was real close to getting a yellow slip, too. Mr. Lee is scary.”

“Daehwi! How could you?” Donghyun reprimands lightly. Daehwi slumps. “Were you daydreaming again?”

“I was doodling,” Daehwi murmurs.

Donghyun shakes his head. “On your skin?”

“Where else would I doodle?”

“Paper, like normal people,” Donghyun says. Daehwi pouts. “Oh, come on, Daehwi. Don’t make that face.”

Daehwi traces the turtle by his wrist, frowning deeply. “I just,” he begins, staring out the window. “Why can’t _I_ be normal? Why can’t it be normal to want your soulmate to see something beautiful? Why can’t it be normal to want that?”

“We’ve been over this,” Donghyun says. “It’s not realistic. No one even pays attention to that anymore. We’re busy living our own lives, Daehwi. All the soulmate talk is out of date.”

“My soulmate should be a part of _my_ life, too.”

Donghyun lets Daehwi fume on his own for a few minutes, driving silently as Daehwi sulks. By the time they reach the front of Daehwi’s house, his mood is much better and he’s inviting Donghyun inside for snacks.

“Can’t,” Donghyun says. “I need to pick up Youngmin hyung from the train station. Next time, okay?”

Daehwi pouts, but he nods in understanding, taking his backpack from the car. Youngmin had gone back to his parents’ tomato farm for the weekend. He has his own apartment in the city, where he walks to the university. Donghyun is the one to drive everyone around, the only one out of their friend group who has both a license and vehicle. Youngmin doesn’t have the money for gas; Woojin and Daehwi are still in high school, without jobs or any places to be, so they don’t have an immediate need for transportation.

“Okay, hyung. Tell Youngmin hyung I said hi.”

Donghyun leaves, Daehwi waving goodbye as the car disappears from sight.

Daehwi enters his house quietly and carefully. His mom works the night shift at the hospital, so she sleeps all day until sundown. Daehwi calls her a human vampire, which she believes is a weak insult. She’s never liked scary, creepy things like that. On occasion, she would compare herself to a wise nocturnal owl rather than a mythical bloodsucker. Daehwi still calls her a vampire, and she constantly threatens to bite him for it.

Passing the kitchen, Daehwi heads to his bedroom. He drops his backpack on the ground and changes into pajamas, more comfortable to lounge around the house in. As he’s pulling off his shirt, he takes the time to observe his arm, full of inked sea life, and hums. He goes to the bathroom across the hall, turning on the sink and wetting a rag with soap and water. Inhaling softly, Daehwi cleans off the marker on his arm.

Later, as Daehwi is trying to find the volume of a cylinder, he gets a late text from Woojin.

 **park woojin (04:48pm)  
** im OUT  
free from these shackles  
down with The Man

Daehwi snorts. Woojin has such a way with words.

 **lee daehwi (04:49pm)  
** Frm detention?? What did u even do!?

 **park woojin (04:50pm)  
** thats super classified  
youre not ready to hear it yet

 **lee daehwi (04:50pm)  
**!!!?! When will i be??!?

 **park woojin (04:52pm)  
** at the very least.......  
xmas

Woojin stops texting after that. Daehwi huffs, but he knows he can’t reason with him. Woojin likes to tease, especially when it’s something as simple as why he’d gotten detention. Whatever it is, it should be worth a three month wait.

Daehwi goes back to studying, listening to Girls’ Generation’s new album on low volume.

——

The next morning, Daehwi wakes up and falls face first out of bed. He’s entangled in his sheets, the alarm on his phone blaring, groaning and squirming. He climbs back on his bed to turn off the alarm, eyelids drooping dangerously. He’s _this_ close to falling back asleep when his mom barges into his room.

“Daehwi!” she exclaims, stripping the blankets off him with zero mercy. Daehwi whines at the loss of warmth. “What are you doing? Get ready for school! I got dinner.”

“You made breakfast,” Daehwi grumbles.

“It’s dinner for me. Come on, sweetie. I brought bok choy and chicken skewers.”

Daehwi rises, narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m doing this for the chicken, not my education.”

His mother pats his cheek as he trudges to the bathroom. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

When Daehwi has freshened up, putting on his makeup and fixing his hair, he shuffles to the kitchen. He chats with his mother about how work went over a plate of food, and she tells him about the new patient who refuses to take his medicine without three cups of jelly. He snickers when she recounts how strange it was for the patient to only want the lime flavor, but she didn’t ask any questions. Daehwi doesn’t think he could ever handle his mom’s job, but he appreciates what she does.

After he’s done with his breakfast, Daehwi heads back to his room to change. It’s supposed to be pretty hot out, despite being the beginning of summer, so he picks out a nice shirt and shorts. He ponders whether today is a pink or blue day, but he changes his mind at the last moment and grabs a white button-down and a red bowtie. It’s a little wrinkled, but that’s okay.

Daehwi grabs his backpack and goes to the front door. “Bye, mom!” he exclaims, slipping on his shoes. “See you for dinner!”

“Breakfast!” she corrects, and he rolls his eyes.

In the mornings, Daehwi walks to school. Donghyun drives him from time to time, whenever he’s free, but sometimes Daehwi wants to stop and smell the flowers. He likes to greet the fruit vendors in the marketplace, likes to visit the puppies on display in the pet shop. He typically gets to school early regardless.

When Daehwi arrives at the front gates, there’s about half an hour before the morning bell is supposed to ring. Daehwi finds a few of his older friends in one of the courtyards, playing cards as they talk about weekend plans. Daehwi sticks next to Haknyeon, a junior whose habit is oversharing, and points out whenever he has a good hand. Honestly, Haknyeon doesn’t even know what they’re playing. Hyungseob tells them it’s Go-Fish, while Seunghyeok tells them it’s Speed. No one really cares who’s right. Yehyun always wins anyway.

Daehwi heads to his first period class ten minutes to eight. It’s on the second floor of the school, wedged in the corner of the hallway. The door is decorated with folded paper flowers and cranes, hues of orange and red. Inside, it’s a similar color-scheme; there are matching motivational posters with cute animals or feminist icons covering the walls. The desks are lined in rows, paired in twos. Ms. Shin is already at her own desk, looking through the attendance log on her computer monitor. She radiates like a fairytale princess, lips as red as an apple and eyes full of the night sky’s stars.

Daehwi doesn’t have a crush on her, no way. Half the school does, though, almost all his friends included. To him, Ms. Shin is akin to the Cool Aunt™ who drinks wine on the back porch, owns three dogs, and buys tooth-rotting candy for her nieces and nephews. He’s known her since last year, when he was a freshman, when he joined the art club. Ms. Shin is the advisor, so Daehwi would see her several times a week, at least. When he turned down her offer to join the choir, which she is also a big part of, she pestered him for days after and nearly bribed him with a new paint set.

The offer, albeit tempting, he had to turn down. He loves music, but he’d rather write lyrics and compose rather than get dolled up to sing covers for a crowd.

Now, Daehwi has Ms. Shin as his writing teacher. Her class is a combination of intensive learning and critical thinking. The students read a lot, write a lot, and sometimes they have to present, too. Daehwi likes it, mainly because he’s always felt comfortable writing. Plus, Ms. Shin doesn’t scold him in front of the entire class when he gets carried away by marking his arm.

Not like Mr. Lee does. Daehwi is still scared of Mr. Lee, despite Ms. Shin swearing he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Daehwi is a much more intelligent lifeform, so he has his doubts.

Before the bell rings, Daehwi chats with Ms. Shin at her desk. She tells him about past papers, how hard it is to read Guanlin’s chicken scratch, what’s on the menu for lunch today. Some students have called Daehwi a teacher’s pet, but he brushes them off easily. He likes being friendly. Is that so hard to comprehend?

The last student enters just as the morning bell goes off. Daehwi goes to his seat in the back, placing his backpack on the empty chair next to him.

Ms. Shin begins to briefly talk about the next assignment, but a soft knock on the door interrupts her. She steps out of the room to check it, telling the class to behave while she’s out. The second the door closes. Guanlin immediately suggests throwing a rave. Dongbin is the only one who seconds him.

Ms. Shin comes back in a minute later, quieting the class. There’s a lanky boy, obsidian hair and lowered head, following her. He’s wearing a sweater, long sleeves covering his hands, and his expression looks anxious. He reminds Daehwi of a puppy that had gotten abused by a past owner and is traumatized of human interaction. Oddly specific, but the boy fits the description to a T.

“We have a new student,” Ms. Shin announces. Smiling widely, she gestures for the boy to come closer. “Introduce yourself.”

The boy wets his lips, bows, and clears his throat. “Hello,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s barely ever used it before, rough around the edges and hardly audible. He doesn’t even look at anyone, more attuned to staring at the floor beneath them. “I’m Bae Jinyoung.”

Oh, weird. Daehwi has never met anyone with that last name before.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinyoung starts his first day at the new school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -thanks for enjoying the story so far!! i wanna apologize to anyone who was expecting a typical soulmate au.... this is more like "high school au with a lowkey soulmate au" haha it's actually pretty boring imo, but i hope u like it!!!  
> -don't expect much activity for a while after this chapter! i just wanted to keep it even by having one daehwi chapter & one baejin chapter, and conveniently i had this done :-)  
> -i don't think this fic will actually have any focus on minor ships (wow weird) but there might be mentions here & there!!!! stay tuned!!!!  
> -since i don't know how long this fic will turn out, i won't be replying to every comment ^^;; i'll respond to questions, however, as well as other inquiries for clarification! or if u wanna make sure i respond, just shoot me an ask on my [tumblr](http://whateverbroski.tumblr.com/)!!! i'm always there crying about w1  
> -and, speaking of, congrats to wanna one on their 2nd win!!!!!!!!! i'm so proud of my dudes!!!!!!!!!  
> -wow @me shut up already lets start the jinhwi

Jinyoung trods down the stairs, two steps at a time, one backpack strap over his shoulder. His mother is in the kitchen, packing his lunch. Every time he tries to tell her he’s too old for crustless PB&J sandwiches, she vehemently scolds him. Something about “participating in his youth before he grows up too fast.” He’s ninety-percent sure it has to do with the growth spurt he’d had last summer that made him the same height as his father.

Jinyoung’s mother turns to him when she hears the fridge opening and closing. “Why are you wearing that?” she asks, scrutinizing Jinyoung from head to toe.

 _That_ regards Jinyoung’s baggy sweater and ripped jeans. He has the sleeves over his hands, bunched at the fingertips. The wooden beads bracelet he always wears is on his right wrist, and he fiddles with it as he stares at his graying socks.

“I like it,” he mutters, shrugging.

“Bae Jinyoung, it is steaming hot outside. Go change. I’ve told you time and time again. I don’t want you getting a heat stroke on your first day of school.”

Jinyoung nervously holds onto his forearm, looking down. “I can’t.”

His mother halts all movements. She turns to him, expression dark. Jinyoung can’t meet her gaze.

“Is it the marks again?”

Jinyoung squeezes his arm. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “I just— I just cut myself, and I wanted to cover it.” He thins his lips, feeling his mother’s trained eyes still on him. “On _accident_. I fell out of bed.”

“Let me look,” his mother commands. Jinyoung gives her his arm, and she pushes up the sleeve and inspects it. There’s a long line going from Jinyoung’s wrist to elbow, blooming pink, the skin around the wound bruising slightly. There’s no blood, but when she touches it Jinyoung winces at the sting. “Why haven’t you bandaged it?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“You’re impossible,” his mother sighs. Jinyoung pulls his sleeve back down, quiet. “You know what I mean. You’re just—”

“A mess,” Jinyoung mutters.

“Difficult,” his mother amends, holding back another sigh. “You’re being difficult, Jinyoung.”

“Can you blame me?” Jinyoung grumbles under his breath. His mother glares at him.

“I don’t want to hear talk like that, young man.” She shoves his lunchbox into his arms. “Put this in your bag. I’ll drive you to school.”

“I can walk.”

Jinyoung’s mother raises an eyebrow. “You would get lost in a heartbeat. We just moved. You haven’t stepped outside since we came in yesterday.”

Jinyoung purses his lips. “Yeah, okay.” He puts his lunchbox in his bag and reaches out to give his mother a hug and kiss. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll wait in the car.”

The drive to Jinyoung’s new school is three SHINee songs away. (His mother lets him connect his phone to the Bluetooth, but she rules hip-hop off-limits. Fortunately, she likes k-pop as much as he does.) The other day, Jinyoung and his mother had gotten him registered, filing paperwork and taking his ID photo. He’d gotten his schedule, too, so he had the chance to look around the school to see where his classes were. It hadn’t been much help; there are too many floors and hallways, and Jinyoung can barely keep track of where the front gate is. He’d only made mental notes of where the bathrooms were and hoped for the best.

There’s at least twenty minutes before the bell. The front of the school has students here and there, sitting under the trees or in the courtyards. The whole building is at least twice as large as Jinyoung’s old school. Bigger doesn’t always mean better, though, and Jinyoung feels like he’s about to pass out.

Jinyoung’s mother pulls up to the curb and parks the car. She stares expectantly at her son. “Do you want me to walk in with you?”

Jinyoung frowns, silencing his own voice that so desperately wants to scream _yes_. “That’d be embarrassing, Mom.” He stares out the window, at the kids throwing frisbees across the field and laughing as one trips over his own feet. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’m— I’m fine on my own.”

“Are you sure? Do you have your schedule? Your lunch? Your bracelet?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.” Jinyoung takes a long breath in, thumbing the wooden beads on his bracelet. He glances at his mother. “Will you pick me up, too?”

His mother smiles at him, and he can feel his uneasiness start to lessen. “If you need me to, call me and I will.”

Jinyoung opens the door and steps one foot out the car. He turns to his mother, plastering on a grin. “I love you, mom.”

“Have fun at school,” she says, and she watches him head inside the building, her son never once turning back. Never once, because he knows he’ll run back to the car if he gets the slightest chance.

——

Jinyoung is lost. Jinyoung is very, very lost. He’d spent the better part of the morning walking around the first floor, in the wing with all the art classes, admiring the students’ works from the past year. His last school cut the art department, so he’d never seen stuff like this. Creative, amazing, beautiful. It gets him agitated, for reasons he’s promised himself not to think about on his first day, and he leaves before he can accidentally miss his first class.

The problem now is there are two minutes until the first bell, and Jinyoung has no idea where C239 is. He doesn’t want to ask anyone, not wanting to seem like a confused freshman, so he clutches his schedule tight in his hand as he reads the numbers next to the doors. It has to be somewhere on the second floor and in the C-wing, because that makes sense given the context.

Jinyoung is passing C216 when the bell screams out for first period’s start. The halls are empty, no soul in sight. He stands alone.

Maybe it’s not too late to run back home.

“No, Jinyoung. No, you can do this. Have strength.” Jinyoung grips onto his forearm, inhaling deeply, and continues his search. “You can do this.”

Classroom C239 has a nice door, Jinyoung discovers half a BTS song later. (He doesn’t have his headphones in, but he’s imagining the song to keep him calm.) It’s decorated in paper cranes and flowers. He places his fingertips along an orange crane’s neck, touch light, and then knocks on the door.

Jinyoung jumps back when it opens.

A princess steps out. No, wait, a teacher. Princesses aren’t a thing. Not in this country, at least. She’s just— just really pretty. Her midnight black hair is curled at the ends, lipstick a dark shade of red. She looks like she belongs in a modeling agency, not a school.

“Do you need something?” she asks, and even her voice sounds lovely.

Jinyoung blushes, nodding. “I. I’m. I, um.” He wants to slap himself. He holds out his schedule for the woman to look at. “I-Is this the right classroom? First period.”

The woman’s whole face brightens. “Oh, you’re my new student! Yes!” She reaches out for Jinyoung’s hand. He grimaces, because his hands are clammy, but she doesn’t seem to care. “I’m Ms. Shin. This is a pretty big school, so I’m surprised you found me so quick!” She opens the door to her class and waves for Jinyoung to follow.

Jinyoung walks into the classroom, head low out of habit. He can hear the students quieting as Ms. Shin speaks.

“We have a new student,” she says. She waves at Jinyoung again, and he walks half a step closer. “Introduce yourself.”

Jinyoung wets his lips, bows, and tries to cough the nerves out. “Hello,” he says, and he hates the sound of his voice. He stares at the ground, unable to meet the eyes of the students above it. “I’m Bae Jinyoung.”

A round of applause goes around the room, Jinyoung doesn’t really know why. He chances a look up and meets eyes with a golden-haired boy all the way in the back. He has a curious expression on his face, twirling his pencil in his left hand. The rainbow sweatband on his wrist makes him stand out as much as his bowtie. Jinyoung looks away first.

“You can take the empty seat next to Daehwi,” Ms. Shin says, urging Jinyoung to the back of the class. “He’s sitting over there. Raise your hand, Daehwi.”

Ah, that’s Daehwi. The boy Jinyoung had met eyes with. Daehwi raises his hand high, the red bowtie at his neck going crooked. Jinyoung goes in that direction, hearing the students say greetings to him as he passes. He does his best to acknowledge them, not used to the curious scrutiny, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He sets his backpack on the ground and sits down.

“Hey!” Daehwi greets, grin wide, tone high and optimistic. Jinyoung nods. “The desks are kinda close together. Don’t worry about bumping into me, though. I’m a leftie. I’m assuming you’re a rightie.” Jinyoung nods again. “Also, I get called out a lot. Not paying attention, mostly. I hope that doesn’t affect you, but I make no promises.”

Jinyoung nods. It’s been awhile since he’s sat next to someone so talkative. He pulls out a notebook as Ms. Shin addresses the class.

“Alright, so! The final project of the semester—” Loud groans resonate throughout the room. Ms. Shin clicks her tongue. “I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“It’s only September!” a boy at the front of the classroom cries.

“Yeah, well. Think ahead, Dongbin.” Ms. Shin hands out a stack of papers to be passed back and goes on. “The final project is going to be with partners. This’ll be pretty freeform, mainly graded on how much effort you put into it. Your execution. The two of you will pick a researchable topic and present on it for ten minutes.” She smiles. “Any questions?”

A hand shoots in the air. “Can we pick our partners?”

“Good question, Guanlin. No, you cannot.” Ms. Shin is met with more groans. “Names out of a hat. It’ll be fun! If you want to be with your friends, I wish that luck is on your side. Who’s up first?”

Anxious, Jinyoung taps his foot on the ground as names are called, one after the other. Daehwi gives him a light pat on the hand, which startles him, but Daehwi looks like he means well, smiling warmly. He can probably tell how nervous Jinyoung is. Jinyoung gives off that vibe, all the restless energy radiating off him in waves. At least Daehwi isn’t off-put by it.

Ms. Shin starts to pull the names for the sixth pair. She reaches into her hat, humming. “Bae Jinyoung—” Jinyoung’s whole body seizes up, “—and Lee Daehwi. Congratulations!”

Daehwi turns to Jinyoung, hands balled into fists as he knocks on Jinyoung’s shoulder. “Oh, seat buddy!” he exclaims excitedly. “I look forward to working with you!”

Jinyoung nods. _I swear I know how to talk_ , he thinks bitterly. “Same.” He doesn’t want Daehwi to think he’s strange, but it’s probably too late for that.

“I’ll give everyone a few minutes to meet with your partners. Afterwards, we’ll be working on a citation assignment. Don’t be too loud!”

The students start moving around the classroom, finding their partners. Daehwi swivels in his chair, facing Jinyoung.

“Do you wanna head over to my house after school to start thinking about the project? I mean, I know it’s months away, but there’s no harm in starting early.” Daehwi hums. “Plus, you’re new here! I can show you around town.”

Jinyoung looks at his hands. “Uh, yeah. Yeah,” he stutters. “Thank you.”

“What’s your schedule like?” Daehwi asks. Jinyoung hands it to him, finding it better for him to see it rather than read it aloud. Daehwi makes a high-pitched noise as he points to a line on the schedule sheet. “We have lunch at the same time! Do you wanna sit with me?”

“Uh.”

Daehwi doesn’t wait for Jinyoung to respond intelligibly. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Jinyoung answers. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for not getting it wrong.

“I’m fifteen! I skipped a year,” Daehwi says. “Is it okay to call you ‘hyung’?”

Jinyoung blinks. He nods. No one has ever asked that before. Daehwi beams like he’s just won the key to the city.

After the partners exchange phone numbers, Ms. Shin delves into the class assignment. The students hush as she explains the importance of citing correctly to avoid plagiarism. Jinyoung takes notes, listens when others answer questions, tries to stay awake by pinching his thigh. Like Daehwi had said earlier, they don’t have any trouble knocking elbows since Daehwi is a leftie. Even so, Jinyoung still makes sure to keep his arms close to himself.

The period goes by in a flash. The class ends with a one page citation list as homework. As Jinyoung packs away his notebook, he feels a light clap on his shoulder.

“See you at lunch, Jinyoung hyung!” Daehwi says. “We normally take the round table by the back doors. I sit with a few freshmen, I hope you don’t mind. They’re all good kids.”

Jinyoung pulls his backpack over his shoulder and stands. “Uh, wouldn’t they be the same age as you...?”

“You catch on fast,” Daehwi laughs. Jinyoung lets out a chuckle, too. They go their separate ways, waving goodbye.

The hallways are flooded with students. Jinyoung stands close to wall, against the lockers, and takes a deep breath. The sheet of paper in his hands is the map to another island in the sea of untamed waves. Second period. B110.

And the search begins again.

——

By some sheer stroke of good fortune, Jinyoung finds all his other classes before the bell. All his classes, that is, before lunch. Finding the cafeteria is another story entirely.

It’s on the third floor, through four hallways, behind the small auditorium. Jinyoung is out of breath once he reaches it. He’s definitely a part of the last string of students who make it through the doors last. Thankfully, it’s lunchtime so everyone is busy socializing and eating. No one really gives a second glance to the slightly sweaty, flushed kid shuffling his feet to the back doors, where he sees Daehwi flailing both arms in the air and calling his name. There are three other boys with him, regarding him with interest.

The moment Jinyoung walks to the table, a baby-faced boy wearing clothes a size too big questions roughly, “Who’s this coat rack?” He’s immediately hit on the arm by Daehwi.

“Way to make a great first impression,” huffs Daehwi. He seats Jinyoung in the chair next to him, leaning in and whispering to him, “He’s just jealous because he hasn’t hit puberty yet.”

“Hey! I heard that, hyung!”

Daehwi chooses to ignore him. He touches Jinyoung’s hand. “Everyone, this is Bae Jinyoung. He’s a sophomore.” He taps a finger on Jinyoung’s knuckles as he points around the table with his other hand. “Introduce yourselves, freshmen friends, as I go forth and retrieve a hot lunch.”

Just like that, Jinyoung is left at the round table with three strangers, Daehwi scurrying to the lunch line. Jinyoung takes out his lunchbox and then his sandwich, biting into it as the freshmen take turns speaking.

“I’m Samuel,” says the boy with light brown hair and tan skin. Tufts of wavy hair stick out from under his beanie. His smile is playful, mischievous. He’s the definition of _cool kid_ in Jinyoung’s mind.

“Yo,” the next boy says, reaching for Samuel’s fries. When he’s slapped by Samuel, guarding the fries with his arm, he wrinkles his nose. He glances at Jinyoung, lifting up a hand in greeting. “I’m Yoo Seonho. Any food you don’t want, I will gladly take off your hands.”

Jinyoung nods, a little taken aback. His lunch normally consists of a sandwich, fruit slices, and a juice pouch. Sometimes, he’ll sneak candy in, too. That’s only enough for himself, but if Seonho keeps trying to poach others’ food like he is now, maybe Jinyoung should bring more to share. For everyone’s sake.

The last boy, the one who’d called out to Jinyoung first, tilts his chair back and proclaims, arms crossed, “The name’s Woojin. Lee Woojin.” He narrows his eyes at Jinyoung. “What’s your purpose of coming here, new person?”

Jinyoung stops chewing. “I, um.” He swallows his bite, coughing. He tries again. “Daehwi— We sit next to each other in writing. This is my first day.”

Samuel raises his eyebrows. “You’re a transfer? How come?” He points at Jinyoung with a fry, which gets snatched by Seonho’s mouth. Samuel sighs. “You’re despicable.”

“My transfer... Uh, um.” Jinyoung darts his eyes to the side. “Parents. My mom— She changed jobs. This school is closer.” It’s not a lie, per se.

“How do you like it here so far?” Seonho asks.

“We just got here yesterday,” Jinyoung responds. He tries for a smile. “I don’t have enough information to form an opinion yet.” Woojin snorts, grinning, and it seems like a good sign.

Daehwi comes back with a slice of pizza and carton of milk. He tells them about the new cashier, how he’s super handsome but not in an unapproachable way. The other boys hassle him for a better story for lunchtime, proclaiming that that one is too boring. Daehwi sighs exaggeratedly and begins another one, something about his history teacher going off on a kid sleeping, using a plastic recorder to squawk her awake. That story is satisfactory enough, judging from all the laughs it arises from the table.

Jinyoung feels welcome here, like his presence is natural to the group of boys. Soon Samuel is sharing his fries with him, and Seonho is playfully spewing jokes (amongst chewed up pizza, gross, Seonho, close your mouth). Woojin seems to have opened up, too, referring to him as a _dark enigma_ of the sophomore class. He’s heard the phrase in a movie, supposedly.

It’s been a long time since Jinyoung has been able to have this mindset, this sense of belonging. To be able to talk without fear of getting ridiculed. To allow himself to relax in front of his peers. To talk like his words have meaning, at least here.

This is a fresh start. He hopes with all his might that he doesn’t ruin it.

——

“Where do you live, hyung?” Daehwi asks, walking alongside Jinyoung. They’re heading out of the school, flowing with the hoard of students gearing towards the buses or sidewalk. Jinyoung checks his phone for the address and tells him. “Oh! That’s right next to my house!”

Jinyoung glances at Daehwi, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah! My mom and I were wondering who our new neighbors were. Lucky that it’s your family!”

“Do you always walk home?” Jinyoung asks.

“Sometimes. My friend who’s a senior drives to school, so he’ll let me hitch a ride when he’s available.” Daehwi holds his hands behind his back, stretching. “Walking is still nice. There’s lots to see.”

“I don’t know my way around,” Jinyoung admits, sheepish.

“That’s okay! I know this town like the back of my hand,” Daehwi declares. “Follow me!”

Daehwi leads Jinyoung home. They pass by a marketplace, a pet shop, a bookstore, and even more as they walk. Daehwi greets every worker he sees by name, introducing Jinyoung excitedly. Jinyoung is overwhelmed, but he’s happy to receive coupons and promotional flyers for being a new resident.

Once they get to Daehwi’s house, Jinyoung tries not to look too out of place. He takes off his shoes, admires the pastel furniture and matching wallpaper scheme. It all looks so... soft. Daehwi brings him into the living room and turns on his Wii.

“Get comfy,” Daehwi says. “You can take off your sweater, too, if you’re hot.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “No, I’m good.”

They end up playing Mario Kart for two whole hours. Daehwi is good at games, but Jinyoung is better. Their scores are close for the first few circuits, but then Jinyoung starts drifting and getting all the right items. Daehwi is livid, constantly getting second place. He swears that Jinyoung can’t be _this good_. Jinyoung swears he’s had a lot of practice.

Jinyoung leaves at four, after his mother texts him to come home to start the laundry. He thanks Daehwi for the hospitality and walks home on his own, with the help of his phone’s GPS. The air is less hot than earlier, humidity close to zero and clouds covering the sun.

It’s not until after dinner, when Jinyoung is working on the citation assignment, that he realizes he and Daehwi hadn’t even mentioned a word of the final project.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daehwi has a new friend.

Daehwi is intrigued by Jinyoung. It’s the same intrigue everyone has, honestly.

Jinyoung is the new kid. He’s mysterious because, unlike most of the sophomore class, Daehwi hadn’t spent freshman year along with him. Some of the sophomore class he’s known since elementary school, too. Daehwi has known Dongbin since kindergarten, Guanlin and Samuel since middle school. They’re all friends, and Daehwi knows almost everything about them. Acquaintances Daehwi has only encountered once or twice, Daehwi at least knows what schools they’ve gone to or their last names.

Jinyoung is _new_. Daehwi befriends him, mainly because the other boy looks like he needs a friend. At a new school, where nothing is the same, friendship is the best way to get someone comfortable.

However, the intrigue feels... different for Daehwi. Jinyoung fits surprisingly well into his life, albeit with only a few days of knowing him. Jinyoung, wearing long clothes in summer and making strange noises when he’s happy or sad or hungry or tired. Jinyoung had started off cautious and nervous around Daehwi and his friends. Careful, like he’d been handling a ship in a bottle. Nervous, like one misstep would cause him to crash and burn.

Now, Jinyoung has fit himself into their group, learning about them and their stories. Although he can be closed off at times, stuttering over his words and failing to bring his head up, he’s more comfortable with them. He jokes around with Seonho, takes Samuel’s side in petty arguments. Even Woojin, who’s highly guarded around new faces, lets Jinyoung help him with geometry.

Jinyoung is new. Jinyoung is different. Daehwi can’t quite place it, but he likes being around him!

——

Daehwi gapes openly. “Are you telling me you’ve _never_ had gelato?”

Ms. Kim, the librarian, shushes him. Daehwi shushes her back, because he knows that she doesn’t actually care if Daehwi gets overly emotional at frozen treats. The shushing is for show, surely. (Plus, she’s a froyo girl.)

Jinyoung shakes his head. “How is it any different from ice cream?”

“Oh, god.” Daehwi slumps onto his algebra textbook, eyes vacant. He says, voice empty, “I can’t be friends with you anymore.”

The pencil drops from Jinyoung’s hands and falls unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. “Friends?” he echoes.

Daehwi narrows his eyes at him. “If you weren’t aware already, we’re friends, Jinyoung hyung.” He sits back up. “Your number is saved on my phone. That’s friendship.”

Jinyoung looks embarrassed as he grabs his pencil off the ground. “I, uh. Thank you,” he says, and it doesn’t sound sarcastic at all. “What do you have me saved as?”

“ _Bae Jinyoung_ ,” Daehwi says, matter-of-fact. “I thought to add _from writing_ , but that seemed a bit excessive.”

“Let me see your phone,” Jinyoung says. Daehwi hands it over. A few seconds later, he gives it back to Daehwi. “Fixed.”

Daehwi looks at his phone screen and scoffs.

**baejin hyung ❤**

“Fitting,” Daehwi laughs. Jinyoung grins, fiddling with his sleeves.

Jinyoung writes in a few notes in his notebook, which is for the same algebra class as Daehwi but with a different teacher. They have similar assignments in the same textbook, so they’re helping one another.

He stops writing suddenly and looks up at Daehwi, expression curious.

“Did we ever settle on a research topic? For Ms. Shin’s writing class.”

Daehwi lets his mouth fall open as the memories of the last few days filter in. “No,” he says with a frown. “We got preoccupied with more important matters.”

“Distracted,” Jinyoung corrects. “We got distracted.”

“When you say it like that, hyung, you make me feel like a bad person.”

Jinyoung snorts. “We have ‘til the end of the week to choose one,” he says. “I think that’s what Ms. Shin said, anyway.”

“If we don’t do it now, we’re gonna forget,” Daehwi whines. He slams his and Jinyoung’s textbooks shut, grinning. “Let’s brainstorm!”

Sighing, Jinyoung turns to Daehwi, leaning his head on his hand, arm over the back of his chair. “Okay. We have to start somewhere, so... What do you like?”

“Everything!”

“Daehwi, you’re gonna have to be _a lot_ more specific.”

Laughing, Daehwi crosses his arms and twirls his pen between his fingers. “Fine! I like art. Music. Skincare. Baking.”

“Okay, I literally have no idea how we can research any of those.”

Daehwi purses his lips. Neither does he, in all honesty. His eyes catch onto the marks partially hidden under his sweatband, tiny stars outlined in purple ink. He’d done it during homeroom, having finished all his homework at the time and wanting something to keep his hands busy. That puts a brilliant idea in his head, one he _knows_ he can research with plenty of ease.

“Soulmates!” he exclaims, clapping his hands eagerly. Ms. Kim shushes him; again, Daehwi shoots a shush back.

On the contrary, Jinyoung looks far less excited than Daehwi currently feels. In fact, he’s paled and ripping the threads hanging off his sleeves. “I, um. I don’t know about that.” He looks away. “Do you like soulmates that much?”

“I’ve always liked the idea of soulmates,” Daehwi chirps. “Having one. Somebody out there. The whole premise of souls being connected. Drawing on your skin to have it appear somewhere else in the world—”

Daehwi stops himself once he realizes he’s rambling. He glances at Jinyoung, who shifts awkwardly, and offers an apologetic smile.

“I’m a little weird, I know. It gets me excited.”

“It’s not—” Jinyoung cuts himself short. He sucks in his lower lip, looking down. “I’m... sort of the opposite.”

Daehwi’s eyes widen. “You hate soulmates?” he prompts. There are tons of people in the world who do. He’s met some, much to his displeasure, but they don’t make him feel down. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion (even if it’s wrong).

“Hate is... a strong word,” Jinyoung says tentatively. Daehwi frowns. “I. I don’t particularly care for them — soulmates. Sorry.”

Sighing, Daehwi scratches behind his ear with a pen. “Guess soulmates are crossed out for the project.” He blows a raspberry. “Back to square one.”

Jinyoung thins his lips, etching his pencil on the margin of his paper. “Actually... I think it’d be a good research project.” Daehwi gasps. “There’s... a lot of stuff on it, right? Like, articles and studies. Research material.” After a few moments, he shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with it? We can always choose another subject.”

Jinyoung glances at Daehwi. “Uh, I mean. I don’t wanna spend more time thinking about the final project. Getting it out of the way... is for the best.” He gently prods Daehwi with his pencil. “Plus, I’m nearly one-hundred percent sure no one else would pick this to present on.”

Daehwi grins widely. “Soulmates it is!”

They go back to doing homework, Ms. Kim giving them the stink-eye every time Jinyoung or Daehwi laughs too loud. Eventually, they leave the library and walk to Daehwi’s favorite gelato place four blocks from the school. Jinyoung can’t tell the difference between a cone of gelato and a cone of ice cream. Daehwi tells him it should take a few more flavors for him to figure it out.

Obviously, the difference is that gelato is _way_ better than ice cream.

——

Daehwi heads to Samuel’s locker on the fourth floor, B-wing. The younger boy is packing his backpack, kneeling at the foot of his locker. Daehwi walks up to him and pats him on the head.

“Hey, Muel! You wanna hang out on Friday?”

Samuel holds a stack of books in his arms and stands, kicking his locker closed with his foot. “Nah. I already promised Jihoon hyung I would walk through the dark forest with him at midnight.”

Daehwi holds out his palm, cocking his head as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “Um, excuse me? Are you getting _murdered_ tonight?” He takes his friend by the shoulders, tone serious. “Kim Samuel, if you’re being held against your will, blink twice.”

Rolling his eyes, Samuel shakes his head. “Jihoon hyung is my best friend. I’m pretty sure I would be able to tell if he was a murderer.”

“Dark forest at midnight? Say that out loud again and tell me it doesn’t sound a teeny bit suspicious.”

Samuel laughs. “He’s a weirdo, I get that. He wants to be in a secret location to talk about his crush on Guanlin hyung.” He whips his head up. “Wait, that’s supposed to be a secret.”

“It’s not a secret,” Daehwi snorts. Samuel grimaces anyway. “That’s a definite no on Friday, then?”

Samuel nods. “Rain check.”

“Darn,” Daehwi says, frowning. “Well, I guess I’ll walk with you to the bus.”

“Thanks, hyung. Can you carry this for me?” Samuel hands a textbook to Daehwi, exhaling as he swings his backpack around to put one inside.

“Muel made me his pack mule,” Daehwi remarks.

Samuel stops walking to judge him, with a subtle shake of the head and a clear, “Don’t.” When he starts up again, he kicks out his legs.

“Hey, why don’t you make plans with Jinyoung hyung? You’re hanging out with him a lot lately.”

“Jinyoung hyung is doing a church thing that day, so he can’t.” Daehwi pouts as he hugs Samuel’s book to his chest. “Wait, have I really been hanging around him that much?”

“Are you kidding me? You two are practically glued at the hip!” Samuel exclaims. He schools his expression, giving Daehwi a harsh look. “I hope you’re not doing it because you feel bad for him.”

“Wow, you think so highly of me,” Daehwi drawls, sarcastic. “I _like_ Jinyoung hyung, okay? He’s a cool guy. Is it so bad to want to get to know him? That’s what friends do, jerkface.”

“I guess you got a point.” Samuel bumps Daehwi’s hip. “Do you think he’s gonna take the title for your _best_ friend?”

Daehwi scrunches his eyebrows, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve never called anyone your best friend, hyung. Not that that’s bad or anything, but—” Samuel twists his lips, contemplating. “You’re the kind of guy who waits for the perfect scene to present itself before snapping the picture. Do you get me?”

“Huh. When did you get so deep, Muel?” Daehwi says, a little impressed.

“We started reading sonnets in literature class,” Samuel proclaims, proud. “Shakespeare has me hooked. What a guy! Who thought to compare someone to a summer’s day? I haven’t.”

“Amazing,” Daehwi chuckles. It’s truly a step up for Kim Samuel, who used to write lyrics in middle school about the girls having “super pretty hair” and “nice brown eyes.” While Samuel had seen no fault in his work, Daehwi couldn’t ever let him embarrass himself with a serenade that bland.

Once they reach the fleet of buses, Daehwi hands Samuel back his textbook. Samuel climbs up the bus steps as Daehwi yells, “Have fun not getting murdered in the forest, Muel! Bring bug spray and a flashlight!”

Daehwi walks home alone. He goes slow and decorates the inside of his arm in red ink. He draws circles, a repetitive pattern that overlaps at the crook of his elbow. He makes sure to watch where he walks, because he’d hate to run into someone with wet ink all over his arm. It’d happen once before; that’s how he met Youngmin, now a college junior. For the elder, it’s not a very pleasant memory.

Recently, Daehwi has been toning down the amount he draws on himself. It’s mostly to keep his teachers at bay, who scold and threaten him with detentions when he’s not paying attention to their lessons. It makes him sad, undoubtedly, but it’s for the best.

He finishes drawing the final coin-sized circle and sighs. One day, he’ll be able to draw all over his skin without anyone criticizing him. One day, when he meets his soulmate. One day, when Daehwi falls in love and, one day, gets his happy ending.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinyoung is starting, maybe, to fit in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -i think the finished product of this fic will be..... 30k? um. um maybe. and i'm gonna try to aim for 14 chapters, but don't quote me LOL  
> -good news: i'm gonna try to finish this! one day. in the future. eventually. again, who knows when but! one day!!!!! bad news: there won't be much updating from me for a while ^^;   
> -anywho, thanks for enjoying!

“How’s school, Jinyoung?” his father asks, scooping out bowls of rice. This is the first family dinner with him present. He’s spent the last few weeks working at his company’s sister location by the countryside, so Jinyoung’s mother has been in charge of dinner. Now, it’s back to the normal menu, which consists of fish stew, rice, braised ribs, and boiled vegetables. (Jinyoung likes takeout better, but this is nice, too.)

“School is...” Jinyoung grabs the bowl given to him, blowing off the steam. He smiles. “School is good.”

“Have you met any new friends?”

Friends. Jinyoung smiles again just thinking of the word.

There’s Geonhee, for example, a senior who’s in Jinyoung’s psychology class. They sit next to one another, and Geonhee shares notecards with him. Geonhee is in the boys’ choir, too, so he’s always humming scores under his breath. Jinyoung has heard him singing aloud a few times, before class starts, and he’d been quick to compliment him. Geonhee had been flattered and promised Jinyoung discounted tickets to the first choir concert of the year.

Then, there’s Jihoon, a junior in his gym class. Jihoon is a member of the wrestling team who likes screwing around with underclassmen. He’s actually not bulky at all, part of the lightweight division, and not actually mean either. He likes to tease, to playfully tempt other students to run faster, do more pushups, add another weight to the bench press. That’s how he’d befriended Jinyoung, whom he claimed, “had a lot of potential for the wrestling team.” Jinyoung can’t help but laugh at Jihoon’s dejected expression every time Jinyoung tells him that he won’t be joining.

Most notably, the group of freshmen at lunch are a regular fixture within Jinyoung’s school day. Samuel, overly sentimental for his age, who works hard and does his homework after he finishes eating. Woojin, a bundle of nervous yet ever capable energy, who keeps his older friends in check when they get too rowdy. Seonho, always clingy and hungry, more positive and down-to-earth than Jinyoung can ever imagine himself.

And then there’s Daehwi. Daehwi, the boy from his writing class, who wears cute clothes, carries around a half-filled sketchbook, and shines brighter than every star in the sky. Daehwi is friends with so many people, and he’d chosen Jinyoung, too, to be a part of that. They hang out often, studying together in the school’s library or the mall or going around town to Daehwi’s recommendations.

Jinyoung’s life has started to turn around, and he likes it. Is grateful. And, although it might be too early to say this, is happy.

“I made a few,” Jinyoung admits.

His father beams, “That’s great! Any girls?” Jinyoung’s mother glares at him. “It’s a harmless question, sweetheart.”

“It’s an unnecessary question, sweetheart,” she retorts, deadpan.

Jinyoung coughs to get their attention back at him. “Some,” he says. “T-They tell me I’m handsome.”

“Those girls have good sense, then!” his father exclaims with a hearty laugh. Jinyoung reddens.

Jinyoung’s mother nudges him. “Tell him about Daehwi,” she urges, smiling.

“Oh?” Jinyoung’s father says, interest piqued. “Who is this Daehwi character? What a name! I’ve never met a Daehwi before.”

“Daehwi was... my first friend here,” Jinyoung says, taking a bite out of a piece of meat. “We hang out a lot.”

His father applauds. “Wow, our Jinyoung! That’s our son, honey. His descriptions are riveting.” Jinyoung rolls his eyes. “When can we meet him?”

“Um.” Jinyoung scratches his neck. “Eventually.”

“Have you met his family yet?”

“Not formally,” Jinyoung says. “I’ve been to his house, but his mom sleeps all day. She works the night shift at the hospital.”

“Is she a doctor?” his mother asks.

“Nurse.”

“Enthralling,” his father notes. “Nothing else to report?”

Jinyoung shakes his head, holding back a grin. He’s missed this. “Nope. High school isn’t that interesting,” he chuckles. “How was your trip, Dad?”

His father dives into a story of training interns and having to drive them around because they don’t have licenses, likening them to Jinyoung himself who doesn’t want to get a license just yet. Jinyoung gets a little sulky at that comment, but his mother says that he’s allowed to take his time. She also reveals him how it took his father four tries to get his license. And then it’s his father’s turn to get sulky, and dinner continues like that.

——

Jinyoung lingers outside the door, scuffing his shoes on the ground and looking back and forth across the hallway. He looks suspicious. He feels suspicious. Not like, _I just robbed a bank and am carrying a lot of money_ suspicious. More like, _I snuck out after curfew, but I wanna go back inside my house without waking my parents_ suspicious. More suspicious than he’d like to be.

It’s been nearly a month since coming to this new school, and Jinyoung can say with some confidence that he’s adjusted properly. He no longer gets lost going to the library. All his teachers know him by name and vice versa. The lunch menu, which is different every day but follows the same pattern weekly, is practically memorized for him, even though he brings lunches from home. Jinyoung is proud of himself for doing so much — well, the bare minimum.

Daehwi, however, finds it necessary he should expand his horizons. Daehwi’s method of doing this is seeing if Jinyoung has any interest in extracurriculars. He’s shown him a list of the clubs and teams, and decided to bring Jinyoung to them to see how he likes them. So far, Jinyoung has spectated a baseball game and visited the jazz band. Neither had garnered enough attention from him to join, so Daehwi is trying a different approach.

The approach, albeit unconventional, is to start barging into recreational clubs while they’re meeting, starting with the art club, Daehwi’s own.

“Am I allowed to be here?” Jinyoung asks, voice cracking. He clears his throat and hopes Daehwi hadn’t noticed, but by the sound of Daehwi’s horribly hidden snort it’s pointless.

“I don’t see why not,” Daehwi says. “Ms. Shin knows you. She likes you.” He tugs on Jinyoung’s hand and pulls him into the classroom. “Also, hyung, literally no one cares.”

Inside, there are a handful of students at the tables, flipping through their sketchbooks or working on easels. Around the classroom are canvases hung on the wall, works in progress like ceramic mugs and bowls drying on the counters. Daehwi brings them to an entirely empty table, pulling out the stools for him and Jinyoung to sit.

“Ms. Shin!” Daehwi calls, and the teacher comes over at the sound of her name. She has her hair in a high ponytail, and even though Jinyoung had seen her doing the school day, the look still makes him blush.

“Hey, Daehwi. What do you need?”

Daehwi grins. “I brought Jinyoung here. That’s okay, right?”

“Of course,” says Ms. Shin. Jinyoung hits Daehwi on the thigh, which she notices and smiles at amusedly. “Oh, Jinyoung, you poor thing. Were you worried I’d chew you out for being here despite not being in this club?”

Caught red-handed, Jinyoung stammers, “M-Maybe.”

“Cute,” laughs Daehwi. He pulls out his sketchbook and pencils, turning to Ms. Shin. “What’s on the agenda today, Teach?”

Ms. Shin puts her hand on her hip, humming. “Conveniently enough: portraits. I was going to recommend drawing one another, but since there are so many non-members here today, we may as well use them to our advantage.”

“I’m not the only one?” Jinyoung says, surprised. Ms. Shin nods, chuckling, and walks over to another group of students.

“We like having buddies here,” Daehwi tells him, patting his knee. He leans in, grinning. “How do you feel about me drawing you, hyung? Be my model!”

Jinyoung licks his lips, nervous. He knows that Daehwi loves art and doodling, given how Daehwi carries around his sketchbook all the time. He’s glanced into it a couple times, too. From what he’d gathered, Daehwi likes sketching what he sees; there are drawings of teachers, school supplies, and even some of his friends in his sketchbook. Jinyoung isn’t used to being the center of attention. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he feels being Daehwi’s impromptu model either.

“Weird,” he says. Daehwi’s face falls. Jinyoung scrambles to salvage the situation, not wanting that look on Daehwi to last. “W-Weird, but okay. Okay-weird.”

Daehwi brightens instantly. “I’ll take it,” he beams. He spins Jinyoung, tilting his chin and ruffling his hair. “Here. Face me, hyung. Just like that. Don’t you dare move!”

Daehwi sets his sketchbook in his lap, his left hand dragging along the paper as he looks from it to Jinyoung’s face. He has a completely serious expression on, lips slightly parted, as he makes lines of graphite Jinyoung can’t see. Jinyoung shifts, but not too much. Daehwi’s gentle gaze makes him feel flushed, like the spotlight is focused on him and only him. Jinyoung tugs his sleeve down and itches his arm.

“Do you know how to smile?”

It takes a lot for Jinyoung _not_ to smile at that petulant comment. “It’ll hurt if I smile for a long time,” he says instead.

Daehwi hums. “Fair enough.”

Jinyoung rubs his nose. He tries to peek at Daehwi’s sketch, but Daehwi holds it to his chest, hiding it with narrowed eyes. Jinyoung sits back, crossing his arms, and Daehwi sets his sketchbook on his lap and continues drawing.

“How long will this take?” asks Jinyoung.

“I dunno. Maybe until club is over.” Daehwi shrugs. “Maybe not. I can be quick.”

“No, take your time. Make me look perfect.” Daehwi rolls his eyes. Jinyoung uncrosses his arms and resumes his position, satisfied.

“Why is Ms. Shin the teacher for art club?” he inquires, a few minutes later, suppressing a yawn. “She’s only a writing teacher, right? Why’d she choose this club to oversee?”

Daehwi lifts his head up. “You can go ask her,” he suggests, nodding his head towards the teacher a few tables away. She’s sitting with Dongmyeong, someone Jinyoung recognizes from his chemistry class, and telling him to work on the lighting of certain facial features.

“You’re funny,” Jinyoung remarks, sarcastic. Daehwi has caught him blushing while talking to Ms. Shin more times than he’d care to admit. Apparently, that’s a normal reaction to Ms. Shin, according to Daehwi, but Jinyoung still gets embarrassed by it.

Laughing, Daehwi continues drawing Jinyoung’s portrait. “Sorry, hyung. It’s just so easy to tease you.” He glances at Ms. Shin, smiling. “She likes art. That’s pretty much the only reason.”

“Oh, okay.”

“She likes music, too,” Daehwi adds, “so she also helps out in the choir clubs. She’s the vocal trainer.” He closes one eye as he discerns his drawing, erasing a mark and sketching over it. “She’s been pestering me to join since last year.”

Jinyoung raises his eyebrows. “You sing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would,” Jinyoung says in earnest. Daehwi stares at him, blinking. Jinyoung clears his throat. “S-Sing for me sometime. Later. I’d love to hear it.”

Daehwi smiles warmly, nodding. “One day,” he says, and it sounds like a promise.

A few more minutes go by in relative silence. Daehwi seems to avoid speaking when he’s concentrating, only murmuring to himself at times when he wants to change a line on the sketch. Jinyoung doesn’t really know where to look for the most part, so he keeps his eyes on the crown of Daehwi’s head. The roots are starting to show, dark brown stark against the blond. Jinyoung wonders how often Daehwi gets his hair done, or if he’s ever dyed his hair different colors before. He thinks Daehwi fits pink, a color he wears often, or maybe even sky blue. Jinyoung has only tried natural tones, like brunette and hazelnut. Maybe they can match, the next time Daehwi dyes his hair.

“I’m done!”

Daehwi exhales loudly before turning his sketchbook around, letting Jinyoung take it in his hands to see the creation. Daehwi bites his lips and asks meekly, “How does it look?”

 _Wow_ is the first word that pops in Jinyoung’s mind. Daehwi has given Jinyoung’s profile more justice than it deserves. He’s outlined Jinyoung’s face, let his dark hair feather over his forehead. He’s spent the most time on Jinyoung’s eyes, from all the eraser markers in that area, and it’s gorgeous. There’s a sparkle in the irises, bright and clear. Jinyoung feels narcissistic having such strong feelings for a drawing of himself, but it’s not the fact that it’s a drawing of _him_ but the fact that _Daehwi_ was able to draw it so well.

“Incredible,” Jinyoung marvels, lightly tracing the sketch as to not smudge it. “You’re— You’re so good, Daehwi.”

Daehwi grins widely, cheeks turning pink. “Thank you!” he exclaims. “Does that mean you wanna join art club with me?”

Jinyoung laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll pass,” he says.

“Darn,” Daehwi sighs, snapping his fingers. “We’ll just have to keep looking then, hyung. I believe in you. How do you feel about lacrosse?”

“Um.”


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daehwi attends the first basketball game of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -hey every1 i survived my first week of classes lmao  
> -i can't stop saying "yoink" & i blame spiderman. i watched it 2 months ago  
> -[also have u seen my fav video](https://youtu.be/91McJtV6FmQ)

“Are you guys gonna come to my basketball game?” Samuel asks, drinking from his chocolate milk.

“That depends,” Seonho says, staring at him midchew, “how are the concessions?”

“We’re an indoor sport, so nothing fancy.” Samuel lists the items off his fingers as he says them. “I think chips, the small ones. Maybe some soda bottles. Candy. If they bust out the popcorn machine, we’ll have that.”

“Nice.” Seonho pops out a thumbs-up. “I’ll go.”

“I didn’t know you were on the basketball team,” comments Jinyoung.

Samuel pounds his chest and holds out a piece sign. “You’re looking at the second string small forward, hyung!”

Jinyoung blinks. “I... have no idea what any of those words mean. I-I’m more of a soccer kind of guy.” He looks at the other guys, expectant. “Translation?”

Woojin bites into an apple. “Benchwarmer.”

“That is insensitive and uncalled for,” Samuel huffs.

Woojin leans over and stage-whispers to Jinyoung, “Notice how he did not deny it.” When Samuel lifts his half-empty milk carton at him threateningly he flinches. “I didn’t mean it, hyung! Spare me!” Samuel puts down the carton, albeit continuing to glower at the youngest boy.

“Daehwi could’ve been on the basketball team,” Woojin tells Jinyoung, warily watching Samuel out of the corner of his eye. “He’s good enough to be a starter.” Then: “Unlike Samuel hyung.”

“You little—”

“Except Daehwi went off to join the art club,” Seonho interjects as Woojin dodges a grape Samuel throws at him.

“You say that like it’s a _bad_ thing,” Daehwi sighs.

Samuel throws a stray grape at him, too, which Daehwi catches in his mouth. “What the— It _is_ , man!”

“ _You_ could’ve been in art club,” Daehwi counters.

Samuel wrinkles his nose. “I showed you my graffiti art _once_ and suddenly I’m the next Beethoven!”

“Beethoven is music, Muel.”

“And Shakespeare is the best playwright of the Renaissance. What’s your point?”

Jinyoung coughs. “So basketball.”

“Basketball!” Seonho exclaims. “According to Guanlin hyung. I only know three things about basketball.”

“What are the three things?” Daehwi asks, trying to ignore Woojin’s distressed cries as Samuel pelts him with grapes while quoting _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_.

“There’s a basket, there’s a ball...” Seonho stops. He purses his lips. “Actually, two things. Dang. I overestimated myself yet again.” Jinyoung snorts.

“All you need to know is that we’re good,” Samuel says. (He’s run out of grapes, much to Woojin’s relief, and can’t recite any more from the play because he doesn’t remember it.) “It’s the first game of the year for the Otters. If I get a chance to play, it’d really help my nerves to see some familiar faces.”

“You have friends on the team, don’t you?” Jinyoung asks.

“Yeah, but I mean. It’s different. Team versus audience dynamics.” Samuel downs the rest of his chocolate milk and crushes the carton in his fist. He shoots it into the trashcan, making a perfect arc that his geometry teacher would be proud of. “You gotta have people on the sidelines cheering you on, y’know.”

“I think I can come,” Daehwi says. Then, he pouts. “You didn’t give me enough time to make a sign for you.”

Samuel laughs. “Next game!” He looks to the rest of them. “Anybody else free? It’s cool if you aren’t. I won’t be mad.”

“I have band practice,” Woojin declares. Jinyoung raises his eyebrows, surprised. “ _My_ band. Not with the clarinets and oboes. A _real_ band. We play in a garage.” Now, Jinyoung’s eyebrows are furrowed, doubting. “We’re actually awesome, thank you very much. Very real. Super legit.

“I’ll see you not play next time, hyung,” he tells Samuel, patting his hand from across the table.

Samuel doesn’t have any more food to throw at him, so he settles for a bland, “I hate you.” He sighs and puts on a tight-lipped smile. “Jinyoung hyung? How about you?”

Jinyoung chokes on his food, violent enough for Daehwi to hurriedly pat his back and offer him his aloe juice. Jinyoung takes a sip, grateful. “Uh, well... I’m not sure—” He pulls at his sleeves, glancing around the table. “I...” Daehwi gives him another pat, and Jinyoung starts to smile. “I-I’ll try.”

“Sweet!” Samuel shouts. “Hope everyone wears the school colors! Except you, Woojin. I could care less about you.”

Woojin sniffs. “The phrase, Muel hyung, is you _couldn’t_ care less—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” screams Seonho, flailing. “Hey, man, don’t throw my fries! I’m gonna eat those!”

——

In all honesty, Daehwi isn’t one to attend every sports game and root the loudest. He prefers hearing what happens the morning after, when everyone is still riding the high of a win or the low of a loss and recounting scenes from the game like tales out of a storybook. That’s more interesting, in his opinion.

Going to the first basketball game of the year is a new experience for Daehwi. He’s doing it for his friends, because being there is the greatest support for them. Samuel and Guanlin have been jittery all day, too, showing it in frazzled text messages to Daehwi.

Preparing in front of his closet, Daehwi wears the school colors: sky blue pants and a lime green sweater. He wonders if he should draw an otter on his arm. An otter would be an interesting doodle, an animal he’s never tried before, but Daehwi doesn’t know how to draw it. He’ll save the effort for another day.

His mom is still sleeping by the time he heads out. Daehwi leaves a note on her dresser, telling her where he’ll be in case she doesn’t see his text. Although it’s September the sun is shining hot and bright at six, so walking back to school is fine for him. He whistles as he crosses the streets, hurrying along.

He’d promised to meet Seonho and Jinyoung at the gymnasium doors. Students are filtering in, heading towards the bleachers. Daehwi sees his two friends by the vending machines, Seonho jabbing all the buttons as Jinyoung hits at his hands.

Daehwi hops towards them, grinning brightly. Seonho hugs him in greeting while Jinyoung bumps his fist. They all go inside, and immediately Seonho bolts towards the concession stand. Jinyoung looks out of place, sleeves covering his hands, as he looks at the bleachers on both sides of the gym. He’s gnawing on his lip, a habit Daehwi has noticed he does when he’s nervous. (Whenever Ms. Shin asks for volunteers, Jinyoung does that. The one time she actually chose him, he’d bitten his lip raw.)

“Are you okay?” Daehwi asks gently, putting a hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder.

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. Fine.”

Daehwi leads him to the bleachers, going to the very top so they can lean their backs against the wall. Jinyoung slouches onto the seat as Daehwi settles beside him. Daehwi grabs onto Jinyoung’s hand, warming it with his own.

“Not good around crowds?”

Jinyoung lets out a dry laugh. Daehwi doesn’t like it. “No, not really. I— I get anxious.”

Daehwi gives his hand a pat. “Don’t worry. I’m right here.” He stares at the basketball team warming up on the court, blurs of blue, some practicing shooting and others dribbling around one another. “I think you can see Samuel’s jersey from here. He’s number sixteen.”

“On the bench,” Jinyoung notes. Only the starters are warming up — upperclassmen, including Guanlin, who’s freakishly good at three-point shots.

“Unfortunately,” Daehwi sighs. “He’s only a freshman. There’s not much else he can do for the first game.”

Jinyoung makes a face. “Is it bad that I don’t know anything about basketball?”

“That’s totally okay! I can explain you the rules and stuff during free throws and timeouts. For now, just cheer when everyone else cheers. That’s what sports games are all about.”

“Team spirit?”

“Screaming way too loud.” Daehwi grins. “And that, too.”

When the game starts, Daehwi tries to cheer for all his friends on the team. Guanlin is the only one starting, having made a name for himself as a capable shooting guard. Because of him towering over the opposing team at the jump ball, the Otters get control of the ball at the start. Samuel is on the bench. He looks ready as ever to get onto the court, where the other players’ shoes squeak noisily against the hardwood.

Seonho comes back three minutes into the game, a chocolate bar hanging out of his mouth and arms full with food. He shares popcorn and soda with Daehwi and Jinyoung and hollers for Guanlin, whom he’s “adopted” since the foreign boy’s transfer from Taipei in middle school despite being a few months younger. Daehwi shouts in Korean and English, hoping Guanlin can hear his advice amidst all the shouting.

Jinyoung tries to match Daehwi in volume, which is impressive in its own right. He’s confused about the entire game, but he’s on his feet, yelling at the referees and for the Otters to play better offense. He tugs on Daehwi’s hand when he has questions, which range from “What’s a foul?” to “How many points is that shot worth?” Daehwi answers them all, and the Otters get through the first half with a ten point lead.

At halftime, Daehwi explains more of the rules of basketball to Jinyoung. The general rules, like the shot clock and three-second violations. Seonho could care less, shoveling handfuls of popcorn into his mouth and then pulling apart Twizzlers to munch on. Daehwi is appalled that Seonho would chew with his mouth wide open, but that’s just what Seonho does.

The second half goes by much like the first. After a timeout with the coach, the Otters’ strategy is much improved. Samuel comes off the bench, a tactic to keep up the team’s defense. He passes the ball to Guanlin, who scores four consecutive three-pointers, and the game is as good as theirs. By the time the final buzzer rings, the home crowd is roaring and the Otters have their first win under their belt.

“Our team won!” Jinyoung cheers. “Oh my— We won! Daehwi, we won! Wow!”

“This is amazing!” Daehwi shouts, pumping his fists in the air. He bounces in place and yells, “Go, Samuel! Go, Guanlin! Go, Otters! Woo-hoo!”

“Let’s get chicken, Guanlin hyung!” Seonho screams, running down the bleachers. Guanlin spots him and offers two excited thumbs-up. Samuel hits him on the arm, laughing, as Seonho barrels into them.

Everyone is in good spirits. The students congratulate the players as they leave. Daehwi starts to formulate a mental plan on how he’ll hug the entire basketball team, now or tomorrow, but then his phone vibrates in his pocket. His face falls as he checks the new text.

 **mom (8:14 pm)** **  
** Sorry Daehwi but I don’t have any food for you when you come home. I woke up late so I went straight to the hospital. There’s instant noodles in the cabinets, and I also left money behind in case you want to order out. Hope the game went well. Love, Mom

“Ah, shoot.”

Jinyoung stops suddenly and faces Daehwi, a true look of concern crossing his face. “What? What is it?”

“My mom left for work already. She was running late so she forgot to make breakfast. I mean, dinner.” Daehwi sighs, shoulders drooping. “Ramen it is.”

“You—” Jinyoung holds onto Daehwi’s arm. He’s staring at Daehwi, licking his lips, somehow resembling a computer that’s stuck buffering. “Y-You can come over to my house. If you want. We eat late anyway.”

“Seriously? I would love to! Thanks, hyung!”

Jinyoung nods. “I just. I need to check first.”

“You’re a lifesaver, hyung. I need rice in my life,” Daehwi says, relieved. Jinyoung smiles as he dials the number for his home.

——

Guanlin’s dad gives Daehwi and Jinyoung a ride home since it’s too dark out to walk home. The two friends praise the tall sophomore for the good game, Jinyoung trying to use all the new basketball terms he’d learned from Daehwi. Guanlin laughs, squeaky and shy, and becomes a permanent shade of pink from all the compliments by the time they drop them off Jinyoung’s house.

Daehwi walks alongside Jinyoung to the front door. “I didn’t even get to fix my hair. It’s such a mess,” he murmurs, thinning his lips. He blows out a puff of air. “This is so nerve-wracking.”

Jinyoung nods. “Same.”

“Why? What are you afraid of?”

“I. I, well...” Jinyoung scratches the nape of his neck. “I’ve... never really had any friends come over for dinner before.”

Daehwi’s jaw drops. “Seriously? None? Not even when you were little? No sleepovers? No playdates?”

“There was, uh. A friend from my old neighborhood, actually. He moved away a year before we did. He went to university.” Jinyoung rubs his arm, looking down. “He’s... more like family, though.” He doesn’t elaborate, more focused on getting the front door unlocked, so Daehwi doesn’t push.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Daehwi says as he takes off his shoes, following Jinyoung. Shuffling his feet, he regrets wearing his koala socks. His panda bear ones are much cuter.

Jinyoung’s mother, Daehwi presumes, is at the stovetop. At Jinyoung’s greeting, she turns around and wipes her hands on her apron.

“Oh, hello! You must be Daehwi!” She walks to him and gives him a firm handshake, which Daehwi returns with a grin. “Aw, you’re so handsome. Come, have a seat.”

Daehwi sits at the kitchen table while Jinyoung hugs his mother.

“Hey, Mom. Sorry for the late notice. Daehwi’s mom didn’t have time to get him dinner, so—”

“Jinyoung, dear, it’s all right,” she interrupts, patting Jinyoung’s face. She looks back at Daehwi. “Any friend of Jinyoung’s is welcome in our home any time. We love the company.

“Are you fine with eating kimchi stew and short ribs, Daehwi? There’s rice and pickled vegetables, too.”

“I can eat everything but eggplant, Mrs. Bae. Thank you!”

Jinyoung gets Daehwi a glass of water as Jinyoung’s mother goes back to cooking. He sits next to Daehwi, sipping from his own cup, and fiddles with his phone. Daehwi peers at the screen and sees him playing Candy Crush. When Jinyoung pauses, Daehwi moves a jellybean for him and gets a striped jelly combo. Jinyoung looks impressed.

“How’s Jinyoung in school, Daehwi? What’s he like?” Jinyoung’s mother asks. “Is he making trouble?”

“Mom!” whines Jinyoung, nearly spilling the water all over himself. He fumbles with the cup and narrowly avoids dropping his phone in it. He clears his throat, blushing. “Mom, _please_.”

Daehwi laughs, tucking his legs under him. “You don’t have to worry, Mrs. Bae. Jinyoung is always on his best behavior. A model student, what have you.” Jinyoung elbows him, hiding a smile, and Daehwi’s grin spreads wider.

When Jinyoung’s father comes home, he tips his invisible hat to Daehwi and introduces himself with a bad joke. Daehwi laughs, despite Jinyoung’s heavy sigh and embarrassed cringe. Like Jinyoung’s mother, Jinyoung’s father compliments Daehwi’s good looks (and also his koala socks). Dinner is finished cooking not long after, and Daehwi and Jinyoung help set the table.

White candles lit, Jinyoung’s father says a short prayer before they all dig in. Daehwi hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in a long while. He normally cooks his own meals, when his mother is working, or eats takeout with her. It’s a different feeling, sitting around a table, passing plates, reaching over Jinyoung’s arm to try to get another piece of bok choy.

Jinyoung’s family asks about his hobbies, classes, and family. Daehwi answers their questions with gusto, sharing his interests and aspirations. He gets more emotional as the night goes on and ends up telling them about his home life, about how it’s just him and his mom. It’s been that way for years. Daehwi’s father had passed when he was young, from an illness he’d been fighting for the better half of his life. Daehwi had barely known him, but he still believes that he’s watching his son from heaven. He tears up at the end of his story, so Jinyoung passes him a box of tissues to wipe his eyes.

Dinner is nice. Daehwi wonders if this is how it always feels to be seated at a full table, all the dishes made in the kitchen, laughter and warmth spread all around. The feeling is nice.

When Daehwi returns home, driven by Jinyoung’s father and getting entertained with more old-timey humor, he makes sure all the doors and windows are locked. He’s in an empty house, alone, but he doesn’t feel lonely. Right when he puts his hand on the railing to the stairs he sees an red origami heart folded on the step. He picks it up, turns it over, and smiles. All it says is _Mom_.

Daehwi climbs to his room and plops onto his bed, laying flat. He stares at his ceiling, which is covered in glow-in-the-dark stars on the verge of falling as the tape wears down. There are fifteen stars to date. When he was in preschool, there had been dozens, so many that there’d barely be enough room for them to fit. Now, the stars are spread out, scattered here and there.

Abruptly, Daehwi shoots up and goes straight for his backpack kicked to the corner of his room. Taking out his pens and pulling up his sleeve, Daehwi begins to draw a garden of flowers. He traces rose petals and daffodils, breaking out all the colors he owns. Green tufts of grass, white sprigs baby’s breath, blooming purple hydrangeas. The inspiration washes over him briskly, and soon his entire forearm is covered in flora.

The myriad of colors matches in a strange, imperfect way, and he loves it. He admires it, restraining himself from rubbing the ink while it’s still wet.

Daehwi’s heart is racing, akin to a rabbit that’s frolicked across the meadow to return back to its hole. As he lets his heart rate slow, he instinctively waits for a response from his soulmate. Like always, there’s none to be seen, but if he seems to wait longer than normal today, he’ll attribute it to the energy left over from the basketball game. He has a little more hope.

When Daehwi takes a photo of his creation, he wonders if he should send it to Jinyoung and ask for his opinion. For some reason, however, it feels wrong. Inappropriate. Drawing on his skin is something that Daehwi shares with only his soulmate, and letting someone else see... feels intrusive, invasive. Jinyoung doesn’t like soulmates, anyhow. It would burden him to offer an opinion.

The sudden thought gets pushed away just like that. Standing, Daehwi heads to the bathroom to ready for a shower. There are indigo smudges on his fingertips.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinyoung goes to his first high school party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forewarning: i am Sorry

Jinyoung shuts his locker and cranes his neck to Daehwi, interest piqued but obviously wary. “A Halloween party?”

Daehwi rolls his eyes. “When you say it like that, you’re losing all the fun in it.” He pulls back and grins, wiggling his torso as he croons, “A _Halloween_ party! The thirty-first of October, when the moon is high in the sky. Haknyeon hyung has one every year at his house.”

“I don’t know, Daehwi... You know I’m not good around crowds.”

“Jinyoung hyung,” Daehwi whines. “It’ll fun! Everyone is in their costumes, there’s good music, and good food! Haknyeon always sets out games, too! The freshmen kids are coming, and Guanlin, Dongbin, Jihoon...” Daehwi juts out his lower lip. “Most importantly, _I’ll_ be there, hyung.”

Jinyoung suppresses a snort. Daehwi is using his puppy-eyes, pouting and putting his fists under his chin. Jinyoung is a sucker for that face. Daehwi uses it on him all the time while they’re trying to work on homework together. Those days normally end up with forgotten assignments and long hours of Mark Kart, Daehwi more proud of Princess Peach winning gold than balancing chemical equations.

Naturally, Jinyoung must give in. “Okay,” he sighs, fixing his hair in front of the mirror hanging in his locker. “I’ll try.”

“Nice!” Daehwi exclaims. “The party starts tonight at eight. Ah! Don’t tell me what you’re dressing as. I wanna be surprised.”

“Do I—” Jinyoung’s voice cracks, and he blushes. Daehwi doesn’t comment on it, thankfully. “Do I just walk up to the front door and come in?”

“Ring the bell! Someone should answer.” Daehwi checks the clock overhead. “Well, I need to go prepare for a test. I’ll see you at the party, hyung!”

Jinyoung bids Daehwi goodbye as the younger boy skips down the hall. If Jinyoung remembers correctly, Daehwi is retaking his algebra test. Mr. Kwon can be a real pain, especially for kids retaking exams, so Jinyoung silently roots for him in his head as he starts his walk home.

Time to get ready for Halloween.

——

There are a lot more than “a few friends” at Haknyeon’s house, Jinyoung discovers very quickly. He stands on the front lawn, wringing the red cape in his hands, silently screaming his tiny head off.

Earlier, Jinyoung had gotten ready for the party at home. He’d already had a costume put out, which he was prepared to wear in the comfort of his own home as he marathoned Halloween and thriller movies like _Nightmare Before Christmas_ and _Train to Busan_. Learning about Haknyeon’s party had changed his usual ritual.

Jinyoung is dressed as a traditional vampire. He has the cape, the ruffled shirt, the black slacks. He’d decided to forgo the plastic teeth, mostly because they’re gross and a pain to care for. He’d done his own hair, styling it with some gel and hairspray. After getting a word of advice from his mom, he’d put on a thin layer of eyeshadow and eyeliner, too. It’s amateur, but there’s an appeal to it.

With directions sent from Daehwi, Jinyoung had walked to Haknyeon’s house with only his phone and wooden beads bracelet to accompany him. The first thing that should’ve tipped him off was the sheer amount of costume-wearers heading in the same direction as him. Mummies, zombies, bees, superheroes — all these people walking towards Haknyeon’s house, the largest one at the end of the road.

The second thing was, clearly, Haknyeon’s house itself. Not only is it large, but it’s flashing purple, red, orange, lights on beat with the music blaring inside. People are all around, from the balcony to the garage. There are splashing sounds coming from the backyard, too, which means there’s a pool. A _pool_.

Jinyoung wants to dip his toe into the water of social interaction, not dive head first without any floaties or means of coming back up.

Maybe he should leave. No one would notice.

But Daehwi had invited him. Daehwi, Jinyoung’s first friend at the school he so desperately wants to fit in wants him to come. He’ll disappoint Daehwi when it comes Monday morning, not being able to say he went to Haknyeon’s party and had fun.

Jinyoung wants to try — if not for himself, for Daehwi.

Inhaling deeply, his thumb holding onto his wooden beads bracelet, Jinyoung walks to the front door and rings the doorbell. He’s half expecting no one to answer since, well, it’s loud and the door’s probably unlocked anyway. It does open, however, only a few seconds after Jinyoung presses the button.

“Hello, stranger!” the man greets. He’s wearing wire-framed glasses and a fitted suit, holding onto a long umbrella. He twirls the umbrella on the floor by its curved handle, whistling. Kingsman?

“Um, hi.” Jinyoung waves, and then realizes it’s redundant since he’s already said a greeting. He points inside the house. “C-Can I come in?”

“Sure thing! Make yourself at home!” The man pulls back the door and lets Jinyoung pass through. The air is hotter, stickier, thicker. Jinyoung fights back a grimace.

“I don’t think I’ve never seen you around before,” the man says. “Are you new to the neighborhood?”

“Yeah. You are...?”

The man laughs, surprised. “Oh, I’m Haknyeon’s cousin, Daniel. I’m not a high schooler, but a university guy. I come back to help around the community often, so I’m pretty well-known around these parts.” He beams. “I’m here for adult supervision.”

Jinyoung looks behind Daniel and then scrutinizes him, lips pursed. “There’s... someone dressed as an octopus climbing through the back window.”

Daniel whips around to observe the spectacle. Indeed, there is an octopus-person crawling into the house. “Huh,” is all he says. “So there is.” He turns back to Jinyoung and claps him a few times on the shoulder. “Well, have fun, man! Games and refreshments are free for the choosing! Happy Halloween!”

Without the responsible adult figure with him, Jinyoung maneuvers his way around the house, dodging Minecraft swords and other foam weapons pointing in the air. He sees characters from video games and movies he recognizes, i.e. Sonic the Hedgehog conversing freely with Voldemort. Unfortunately, no real familiar faces. He goes deeper into the house, passing by groups loitering about, and tries to find someone he can truly latch onto. If it isn’t Daehwi, maybe Jihoon. The freshmen kids. Or Geonhee. Someone, _someone_ to help him stay afloat.

Jinyoung’s prayers are answered with a Guanlin-sized tree. A tree-sized Guanlin, if you will. The taller boy is dressed as a standard tree, his arms as branches and the top of his head crowned with green paper leaves. There are leaves all over his forearms and around his waist, too, so he gives more of a woodland fairy vibe than a tree, in Jinyoung’s opinion.

Thankfully, Guanlin sees Jinyoung first so Jinyoung doesn’t have to go through the struggle of calling out to him.

“Oi! It’s Baejin!” Guanlin grins with all his teeth, cheerful, waddling over to Jinyoung. He tugs at Jinyoung’s cape and whistles. “You’re lookin’ fly, hyung.”

“Thanks.”

“Get it? It’s a bat pun. Well, you’re not a bat, but vampires and bats are related. So it still works!”

Jinyoung snorts, “I got that.” Guanlin straightens, proud. “Um, so have you seen Daehwi around?”

Guanlin nods, and a few of his leaves fall off his head. He either doesn’t notice or ignores them. “Yeah! He’s with Haknyeon and Samuel. I’ll bring you over.”

Being led by Guanlin’s branch arm, Jinyoung follows him to another room. Guanlin, despite having half a head over the crowd, moves fluidly and with ease. Jinyoung may’ve spoken too soon, because in the next moment Guanlin ducks straight into a cobweb in the doorway and starts sputtering.

In the room, there are several kids lounging on the fold-out chairs. There’s a farmer, who Jinyoung recognizes as Haknyeon, the host of the party. He has on denim overalls, a straw hat, and holds onto a pig plush as he gnaws on a Pixie Stick. Samuel is here, leaning back against the wall, with an open vest and fairy wings — Jinyoung isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be. There is also a mummy, Goku, astronaut, and hot dog, all of whom Jinyoung fails to pay attention to, because the person Jinyoung is most relieved to see—

“Daehwi.”

The boy turns at the sound of his name, the scruffy pointed ears atop his head nearly falling off at the spin. He bounds to Jinyoung, grinning, and grabs him by the hands.

“You made it!” Daehwi exclaims. He has long, striped sleeves that cover his hands and torn bottoms. Upon closer inspection, he has parts of his face covered in bronzer, his nose darkened to almost black, and a tail pinned to his backside.

“Looking good, Edward,” says Samuel.

Guanlin turns his head. “What?”

“No, not you, Guanlin.”

“Guanlin’s English name is Edward,” Haknyeon tells Jinyoung, funneling colored sugar into his mouth. “We made fun of him after we watched _Twilight_ for a really, really, really long time. You had to be there.”

Guanlin pouts. “You _really_ made a transfer kid feel welcome.” Haknyeon grins brightly and tosses him a few Jolly Ranchers from inside his overall pocket.

“Well, I think Jinyoung hyung makes a fine vampire,” Daehwi declares, lightly gripping onto the sides of Jinyoung’s cape. “Ah, hyung, you’re wearing eyeshadow! You should wear makeup more often. It brings out your eyes.”

The compliment gets Jinyoung to duck his head, shy. He’s still getting used to it. Daehwi loves to pass out compliments like candy, very fitting for the season.

Daehwi laughs and hugs him. He smells like strawberries, and even though it’s only for a brief moment Jinyoung can feel his own cheeks heating up at the intimacy.

“You guys are matching,” Haknyeon points out. Daehwi and Jinyoung stare at him, confused. “Vampire and werewolf. Edward and Jacob. You know, _Twilight_. I mentioned it, like, half a minute ago! Did you do that on purpose?”

Daehwi makes a face. “Of course not,” he huffs. Haknyeon looks pleased anyway. Daehwi takes Jinyoung by the hand and tugs. “Come on, hyung. There are drinks and snacks in the kitchen. And then we can play some games!”

It’s a little embarrassing how easily Jinyoung abides to Daehwi’s command. They go together to the kitchen, where several others are chatting and snacking. Someone in a horse head is sitting in one of the lower cabinets, trying to funnel popcorn pieces into the snout of the mask. Daehwi high-fives the horse-person as they pass — apparently, it’s Seonho. Jinyoung snickers when Seonho gets a piece of candy corn stuck in his mane.

At the island in the center of the kitchen, there’s an array of food, drink, and most importantly candy. There’s a large cauldron filled with red liquid, half empty. There are tiny plastic cups, orange and black, beside it. Daehwi takes the ladle and stirs.

“Is that punch?” asks Jinyoung.

“Nope.” Daehwi pours the liquid into a cup and hands it to Jinyoung. “It’s _demon’s blood_.” He grins. “Cherry-flavored demon’s blood, that is!”

Jinyoung laughs. He takes a sip, wincing at the overly sugary taste. Daehwi seems to like it, though, so it’s not so bad. When he starts to browse the snacks, Jinyoung picks one of the chocolate covered pretzel sticks from the table and holds it to Daehwi’s face.

“What do you call these?”

Daehwi hums. He takes a bite out of the pretzel, making Jinyoung bawk. “Skeleton fingers,” he says cheekily. “Tasty!”

“Full of calcium,” Jinyoung adds, finishing it with another bite.

“Right you are, hyung.” Daehwi grabs a handful of jellybeans and starts popping them into his mouth, one by one. “How’re you liking the party so far?”

“It’s... interesting. I mean, I— I’ve never been to a something like this.”

“Have you seen everyone’s costumes? Wow! Lots of people like to go all out on Halloween, but wow!” Daehwi exclaims. “Actually, Jihoon dressed as an alien, but he went low budget. You should see him, hyung. He got Samuel to wrap him in two cases of aluminum foil!”

Jinyoung leans against the island as Daehwi goes on and on. He likes listening to Daehwi talk. The boy’s words are so full of life, animated. Jinyoung finds himself getting lost in Daehwi’s stories, lending his ear to Daehwi’s rambling. That’s what he’s calling it, because Daehwi has gone from topic to topic and now he’s talking about America as a country. Jinyoung must’ve spaced out; he’d thought they were talking about their favorite kinds of weather.

When Jinyoung finishes his punch, he and Daehwi get to the games in another room in the house. They participate in an informal Super Smash Bros. tournament, him and Daehwi perpetually the last ones fighting in every round. After ten rounds of them alternating between first and second place, they get kicked out and move to another room.

There’s a TV with a karaoke machine hooked into it. Random people are grabbing onto the mic and singing their hearts out. Daehwi and Jinyoung cheer them on, neither of them making to try, but it’s a sight to see when Mario and Luigi sing a Girls’ Generation duet with toilet plungers in hand.

And it goes on like that, traveling from room to room, finding something new to experience each time.

The hours pass, easily and effortlessly, and maybe Jinyoung should’ve expected this. Maybe he should’ve been more prepared. One minute he’s listening to Daehwi talk about Venice Beach, waiting for his turn to play Mafia, and the next...

Nothing.

Jinyoung brings his head up and looks around for Daehwi, who no longer is standing next to him. Was he not paying enough attention? Did Daehwi say he was leaving? He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t think—

Someone bumps Jinyoung’s side as he’s spinning.

“Watch where you’re going, beanstalk.”

“S-Sorry,” Jinyoung stutters. He grapples at his wooden beads bracelet, wills himself to stay calm. “Daehwi?” he calls out, but he’s too quiet. Too weak. Too scared.

Where’s Daehwi?

——

The bathroom is, arguably, the worst place to take refuge in at a high school Halloween party. Jinyoung is in one of the smaller ones, on the second floor, huddled in the bathtub. After he’d lost Daehwi, he couldn’t find any of his other friends either. As he was looking for them, an older girl had pulled him aside and tried to hit on him — _flirt_. She was dressed as a sexy police officer and tried to use a pick-up line that had something to do with handcuffs and a “get out of jail free” card. The music was too loud for Jinyoung to hear it in full, but he still got wildly uncomfortable and needed a quick escape.

So, here he is. In the bathroom. In a bathtub. Alone. He’s holding his phone to his chest, having tried calling and texting Daehwi to no avail. He’s also messaged his other friends he’s seen at the party, but again, nothing.

Bathrooms have always been safe spaces for Jinyoung. At his old school, it’s where he would hide when staying in the classroom was too painful, when the kids got too good at sneaking notes to him, when he’d hear too much yet not enough. He’d learned to put his feet on the toilet so no one could see his him in the stalls, so no one would realize he was hiding. For a while, it worked.

And then it didn’t. Jinyoung tries not to think about it. He tries very hard.

The bathtub is cold against Jinyoung’s skin. Being a vampire for the night, it reminds him of a coffin. He could fall asleep, if he really tried, but the music is too loud. When he lays his chin on the perch of the bathtub, he can feel the vibrations of the bass down to his bones.

Why exactly is he in the bathtub? Well, he thinks it’s better than laying on the floor. Probably. Right now, Jinyoung is waiting. Waiting for someone to reply back to him, waiting for someone to find him. Waiting for the party to end or waiting for the party to end him.

Oh, no, not that. Positive thoughts, Jinyoung. Positive.

The bathroom is nice. The soap bar in the bathtub is shaped like a swan. It smells like lemons. There are three different kinds of shampoo and conditioner. One of them smells like passionfruit.

There’s a box of cookies at home with his name on it. They’re chocolate chip. Not homemade, but they’re his favorite brand. His dad had bought them for him last week because they were on sale.

Daehwi’s calling him. He has a new ringtone and—

Wait, Daehwi’s calling him!

Jinyoung scrambles up, clutching the edge of the tub, and holds his phone to his ear.

“ _Jinyoung hyung?_ ” Relief floods through Jinyoung’s system, and he almost cries. “ _Oh my god, I just saw all your messages and missed calls now. I didn’t hear them, but I’m so— Where are you? Are you okay? Are you still at Haknyeon’s house?_ ”

“Bathroom,” Jinyoung croaks. He hasn’t spoken in nearly half an hour. “Second floor. I’m okay.”

“ _I’m coming up now. Don’t move._ ”

Jinyoung’s phone beeps, and he pulls it away from his face to check it. He frowns. “Knock when you get here, Daehwi. My phone’s about to die.”

“ _I’ll be right there._ ”

Slumping against the tub, Jinyoung laughs to himself. It sounds horrible. It is horrible. He’s hiding in the bathroom at a Halloween party, for God’s sake. Daehwi is coming to save him, like Jinyoung is some lost soul going down the wrong path, unable to tell what’s right and what’s wrong. Someone always has to save him.

Jinyoung always needs saving.

Pulling back his right sleeve, Jinyoung stares at the marks. The marks, which he doesn’t know whether to hate or love anymore, but he finds tracing in times of hurt. Today, there’s a sky. His arm is covered in clouds, tiny Vs of birds, the sun shining at the end of his palm. He wonders how long it had taken to draw this, to visualize the world above them and put it onto skin.

 _Beautiful_ , Jinyoung thinks. It’d be nice to fly. Jinyoung wonders if his soulmate has ever ridden a plane before. Jinyoung hasn’t, but he’d like to. Some day. One day.

“Jinyoung hyung? Are you in there?”

The voice, muffled behind the door, makes Jinyoung whimper in relief. Making sure his sleeve covers his arm, he climbs out of the tub and stands in front of door, taking a shaky breath as he reaches for the doorknob. He opens it and musters a smile.

“Hi,” he says, quiet.

Daehwi pushes him back into the bathroom and locks the door behind them. “This is— I’m so—” He grabs Jinyoung by the shoulders, biting his lip. “How are you feeling? Were you anxious? I didn’t mean to leave, I just—”

“I’m okay,” Jinyoung interrupts. He can’t bear to see Daehwi getting worked up over nothing. “I’m alright.”

Shaking his head, Daehwi moves his hands to Jinyoung’s face, holding his cheeks and rubbing his thumbs gently on the skin. It makes Jinyoung shudder. “You’re not,” he counters.

“I’m fine,” Jinyoung insists.

Daehwi looks him up and down, disbelieving. He pulls Jinyoung into a hug, laying the other boy’s head on his shoulder. “You’re _not_.”

Jinyoung holds Daehwi close to him, breathing in that smell of strawberries, trying his hardest not to cry. He squeezes Daehwi as tight as he can, as tight as he can without hurting him, and shakes his head. He’s fine. Daehwi is here, and it’s fine. Everything is fine.

Daehwi brushes the hair from Jinyoung’s eyes, smile sweet and soft. “I won’t leave you. I won’t, I promise.”

Something in Jinyoung’s chest tightens. He nods. “Okay,” he mutters. He squeezes Daehwi again. “Don’t leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ me: stop making bathroom scenes where all ppl do is cry


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daehwi tries to get Jinyoung to forgive him.

“Hate me.”

Jinyoung sighs, the tip of his pencil pausing on his paper. “Daehwi, I’m not gonna ‘hate you’ no matter how many times you tell me to.” He scratches behind his ear with the eraser. “If my count is correct, that’s the ninety-eighth time today.”

Pointedly ignoring Jinyoung, Daehwi drapes himself over the kitchen table, knocking Jinyoung’s pencil case to the floor. Jinyoung sighs again, staring at him, unimpressed.

“ _Hate me_. Please, hyung. Put me out of my misery!”

“Stop,” Jinyoung huffs, pulling Daehwi off the table. He’s mindful not to make too much noise; Daehwi’s mom is sleeping upstairs and she’s already told them to quiet down once before. “I was okay yesterday. Really. Just nervous. It’s fine.”

No matter how many times Jinyoung tries to convince him, Daehwi knows it’s _not_ fine. Last night, at Haknyeon’s party, things were going great. Jinyoung showed up, the book definition of a blood-sucking vampire. Daehwi, being Daehwi, had chosen to be a werewolf because it was on his long list of mythical creatures for Halloween. He’d already gone the vampire route last year, while next year is supposed to be a mermaid.

Anyway. Things were going great. Great! He and Jinyoung had lots of candy and snacks, went from room to room for games, chatting mindlessly. Daehwi had babbled on about any and everything, unable to keep his mouth closed, a habit he’s acquired when he’s around Jinyoung.

 _Anyway._ Mid-conversation, Daehwi got swept away by Woojin. Park Woojin, not Lee Woojin. (Lee Woojin would never come to an over-the-top party like that, not when he has band practice and Overwatch. On the flipside Park Woojin, snaggletoothed junior who decided to dress up as a pirate, was right in his element.) He’d snatched Daehwi and told him that there was an emergency, that Daehwi _needed_ to be there. It was so urgent, in fact, that Daehwi couldn’t even go back to Jinyoung to tell him he’d left.

The emergency, Daehwi had understood very quickly, was not an emergency at all. Woojin had grabbed him for a game he’d started with Jihoon, Hyungseob, Euiwoong, and Geonhee. There needed to be an even number of players, and Woojin recruited Daehwi because of his competitiveness and strong desire to win. It was charades, with the winning team being promised an entire day paid for by the losing team. Woojin had Jihoon on his team, and he was hoping that he could get an amusement park date with Hyungseob. Jihoon, uh, he wanted to use Euiwoong’s wallet to raid a toy store.

Although Daehwi was upset that he was lied to, he still wanted to be a good sport and play along. He’d known that Woojin wanted a date with Hyungseob since meeting him over the summer, struck with that _crush at first sight_ ; Daehwi gladly acted as the wingman for one of his closest friends. Dongbin, dressed as a bumblebee, was appointed the referee. There weren’t exactly rules in place, so they kept playing and alternating until Dongbin was satisfied with the final scores.

When Woojin’s team lost, a rematch was promptly in order. Woojin was really hankering for a date, whining and pouting and putting Daehwi in a headlock to get him to play again. Daehwi couldn’t say no! They’d settled for a pumpkin pie eating contest next, which Woojin and Daehwi dominated in, but _then_ the other team wasn’t satisfied.

There was a cycle of challenging the winning team to another game, another wager. The outcome of the games led to this: Daehwi now owes Geonhee two self-composed songs and Euiwoong the notes to his health class. Also, Woojin probably sold his soul to Hyungseob, but he seemed more than happy about that.

Daehwi didn’t realize how long he’d been gone from Jinyoung until someone asked him for the time. He’d pulled out his phone and gasped at the ungodly amount of missed messages and calls from Bae Jinyoung. He’d scrolled through the texts, all of them variations of _where are u_ or _daehwi come back_. He’d left the room to listen to one of the voicemails and nearly cried when he heard how heartbroken and frightened Jinyoung’s voice was.

Daehwi had abandoned Jinyoung. Jinyoung, the friend he’d invited to the party. Jinyoung, the friend who struggles with strangers and anxiety. Jinyoung, _Daehwi’s_ friend.

When Daehwi had found Jinyoung in the second floor bathroom, putting on a smile despite saying all those fears to Daehwi over the phone, Daehwi wanted to bundle him up in a blanket and bring him home. He wanted to make Jinyoung a mug of hot cocoa with jumbo marshmallows and whipped cream, let him watch _Tangled_ on the TV, stroke his hair until he fell asleep. Instead, Daehwi pushed Jinyoung into the bathroom and hugged him until the other boy pulled away to whisper, “I need to charge my phone.”

Daehwi had walked Jinyoung home close to midnight, saying his first apology and goodbye.

It’s only continued from there. The second Daehwi had spotted Jinyoung at school this morning, Daehwi took out a long-winded apology letter to recite to him. Daehwi has seriously said _I’m sorry_ more times today than he has in his entire (albeit short) high school career.

So, here they are, in Daehwi’s living room, Daehwi still trying to get Jinyoung to emote according to Daehwi’s heinous actions and Jinyoung refusing to condemn him.

“You’re too good,” Daehwi groans. “Too good for this world. Cinnamon roll.”

“Cinnamon...? Dae, come on. It’s cool. We’re okay now. I’m over it.”

Daehwi rubs his face with his hands, unsatisfied. “How can I make it up to you, hyung? I was a _terrible_ friend. A terrible person! I deserve some sort of— of— divine retribution!”

Jinyoung picks up his pencil case from the ground and purses his lips. He looks at Daehwi and starts to smile. “Do they have an arcade in this town?”

Confused, as well as distressed, Daehwi nods. “Yeah, why?”

“Take me to the arcade.”

Daehwi perks up. “And then you’ll forgive me?”

“You’ve already been forgiven,” Jinyoung says, holding in a laugh. Daehwi whines. “Okay, sure, if it makes you feel any better. You’ll be forgiven. And—” Daehwi holds his breath, “—get me ice cream, too. Not gelato.”

Oh, dear. “Jinyoung hyung,” Daehwi voices, almost pleadingly. Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to go on. This goes against all Daehwi’s values. “ _Fine._ I’ll treat you to some arcade games and... ice cream.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Daehwi affirms.

Jinyoung grins, satisfied. “Great. Now, help me with this equation. I don’t know how to find the tangent line. Actually, I don’t know how to do any of this. I haven’t seen my calculator, either, so...”

——

The next day the two spend hours at the arcade, after finishing cones of vanilla and chocolate ice cream, arriving a little after sundown. Daehwi’s mom drops them off at the mall before leaving for work. Since Jinyoung has never been here before, like many of the places Daehwi has shown him, Daehwi takes the initiative to show him around.

It’s not the newest or fanciest place, but there are flashing lights and dozens of game machines for teenagers such as themselves to play with. Right now, since it’s a school night, there aren’t many people around. Daehwi is thankful; his competitiveness turns him into a monster sometimes. Children ages six and under shouldn’t be allowed to see it, let alone be tested by it.

Everything operates on coins; Daehwi and Jinyoung have enough pocket money in change prepared to keep them occupied for the night. They start off with air hockey, playing a few rounds until Jinyoung is satisfied with the amount of times he’s won. Then, it’s a first-person shooter zombie game, where they have to work as a team to get the high score — which they do, proudly, replacing _LAJI_ as number one on the leaderboard. For the next competition, Daehwi chooses the basketball free throw game, and he wins that, naturally. Jinyoung stops shooting just to watch him, amazed, jaw slack as he applauds at the consecutive baskets scored by Daehwi.

The duo rotates around the arcade, playing everything that they can. As the night goes on, Daehwi realizes there’s one game he hasn’t touched yet. He bounds across the arcade, Jinyoung following him easily.

Quickly, Daehwi flocks to the side of the ultra pink claw machine, pressing his face against the glass. He pokes at it, pointing to the snow white dog wedged between two bears and a cat, and mumbles, “I want that.”

“Which one? The bear?”

“No, the dog! It’s a mini shiba inu. It’s so _cute_.” Daehwi presses both hands flat on the glass and laughs. “It actually reminds me of Guanlin, don’t you think?”

Jinyoung chuckles, coming closer to the machine. He idly prods the joystick as he looks at the array of stuffed animals inside. “I can totally get it,” he proclaims. “Easy-peasy.”

Daehwi huffs, “These machines are a total scam, hyung!” Jinyoung pulls out his wallet and Daehwi sputters, “Oh my, you’re serious.”

“More serious than I’ve ever been in my entire life,” Jinyoung declares, rolling up his sleeves. “Believe me, Dae. I took piano lessons.”

“What’s that got to do—” Daehwi shrieks when Jinyoung inserts the coins, the machine dinging alive as the claw starts to move. “Hey! Slow down! I have to be your eyes on the side! We’re a _team_!”

Jinyoung moves the claw above the stuffed dog. He licks his lips, crouching down to be at eye level with the metal hand. “Okay, how is it?”

“Go down. And a centimeter to the right!” Daehwi orders, hurriedly poking the glass. “Ah! Too much right!”

The countdown ends. The claw descends and wraps around the head of the stuffed dog. Jinyoung and Daehwi hold their breaths, Daehwi flying behind Jinyoung and squeezing his arm in anticipation. As the claw raises, the stuffed dog gets tugged but not enough. The claw loses its grip and returns to its start position with nothing but air. Daehwi’s shoulders droop and he frowns, disappointed.

“The game would be... _too_ easy if I got it on the first try,” Jinyoung says, already taking out another set of coins.

“Jinyoung hyung,” Daehwi scoffs, baffled.

“Again.” Jinyoung is absolutely determined. Grinning, Daehwi returns to the side of the machine, ready to help Jinyoung’s next try.

It takes five tries. When Jinyoung finally gets the stuffed dog to fall into the chute, he and Daehwi scream their lungs out and engulf each other in a celebratory hug — all for a plush the size of Daehwi’s head. An employee has to come up to them and tell them to quiet down.

Worth it? Of course!

As they walk to the front entrance of the mall, where Donghyun is coming by to pick them up and drop them off at their houses, Daehwi holds onto the shiba inu plush and stares at its face, cooing at the cuteness. On the shiba inu’s fur, there’s the faintest hint of pink on its cheeks. The shiba inu also has a bright blue bandana around its neck, right under its smiling mouth.

“Do you like it?” Jinyoung asks.

Daehwi holds the plush close to his face. “Isn’t it obvious? Feel how soft it is, hyung!” Jinyoung pats the plush, and then gives Daehwi a light pat on the head, too. Daehwi laughs, returning his gaze back to the shiba inu. “Okay, buddy. I’ll name you... Bandy.”

“Cheesy,” Jinyoung whispers, earning him a punch to the arm from Daehwi. “I’m kidding! I actually like the name. It’s cute.”

Smiling, Daehwi hugs Bandy and buries his nose into the fuzziness. “Thanks, hyung.” He lifts his head. “For spending the day with me. And for this.”

Jinyoung grins. “That’s what friends are for.”

——

Daehwi and Jinyoung have been working on their presentation on the weekends. Today, they’re more focused than ever before. The location is Daehwi’s bedroom, which doesn’t have a TV or videogames to distract them. Even when they do get distracted, it’s to ask one another questions that pertain to the soulmates topic. Jinyoung seems reluctant to share his opinion, but Daehwi is more than happy to ramble on and on about what he thinks of soulmates.

“It’s just so interesting to me, hyung! Being connected with someone.” Daehwi falls back onto his bed, raising his hand up high and staring at the spaces between his fingers. “There’s someone out there who shares my skin. How amazing!”

“Mm.” Jinyoung’s voice comes from below, where he sits on the ground, typing on his laptop. There isn’t a change in tone, no sign of interest.

“My parents are— were soulmates,” Daehwi starts. He hears Jinyoung’s typing pause. “They met after university. My mom was writing down which medicines she needed to refill for patients. And, well, it turned out that my dad was a new doctor at the hospital. He showed her his arm, and she laughed. She said, ‘Sorry for writing so much, but I’m forgetful and never have paper on me.’ They exchanged information, and the rest is history.”

“That’s cool,” Jinyoung comments. He pats Daehwi’s leg that hangs off the bed. “Your dad must’ve been an awesome guy.”

Daehwi smiles. “Yeah, he was. I miss him.” He rolls onto his stomach and faces Jinyoung. “He’s one of the reasons why I’m so into soulmates, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Him and my mom would tell me their story at bedtime: how they met with the writing on my mom’s arm, how it was fate. They would say how I have a soulmate, too, and I’d meet them one day.”

“That was kind of them,” Jinyoung says. He starts typing again, and Daehwi can see him scroll through articles on the declining rate of soulmate marriages. Daehwi frowns.

“When I was a kid, I didn’t want toys. I wanted pens and markers to draw on my skin,” he continues. Jinyoung doesn’t look up. “I wanted to give gifts to my soulmate. Drawings they could know me by.”

Jinyoung hums, but Daehwi can tell he’s not paying much attention to him. It’s a little frustrating. They’re having a conversation, and Jinyoung is too busy focusing on the project. Well, it sounds like Daehwi’s problem when it’s worded like that.

“Can you show me?” Jinyoung asks, and _now_ he’s looking at Daehwi. “The drawings.”

Daehwi buries his face in the comforter, feeling his ears turn red. “It’s embarrassing,” he says. “I don’t think I can. It’s— Well, I like to keep it between me and my soulmate, but if you _must_ know... Doodles. Similar to the stuff I put in my sketchbook.”

“You don’t like showing me that either,” Jinyoung declares, sounding whiny.

“I’ll just _tell_ you,” Daehwi huffs. He sits up and crosses his legs. “Patterns, mostly. Animals and flowers, too.” He looks at his bare arm. “Yesterday I tried drawing a field of sunflowers.”

Daehwi turns to stare at Jinyoung and sees his hands once again paused above his keyboard.

“What was that?”

Daehwi grabs a pillow to put under his chin. “Sunflowers. Simple flowers, in my opinion. I messed up on a lot of them. I tried drawing them in gym class, so they were lopsided.” He sighs, remembering how bumping into Samuel made one of the stems go awry. “Not my best work.”

“I—” Jinyoung goes silent. “That’s... nice.”

Daehwi can tell that Jinyoung is forcing the words out, definitely not comfortable with the soulmate talk. Daehwi smiles at his friend’s attempt and goes back to flipping through a book on soulmate psychology.

A few minutes later, Jinyoung shuts his laptop closed and stuffs it in his bag. “I have to go.”

Daehwi blinks. “You’re leaving so soon?”

“My mom— I forgot I needed to be home early.”

“Oh, okay.” Daehwi sits up. “Do you want me to walk you?”

Jinyoung shakes his head, gathering his things. “No, I’ll—” He trips over his bag. Daehwi stands up to help him, but he backs away before Daehwi can lend a hand. “I-I’ll be okay.”

“Text me,” Daehwi says, but Jinyoung’s already left his room. Daehwi hears the front door open and close, the slam resounding loud throughout the house.

That was... odd. Jinyoung has his quirks, but even that was strange of him.

The door to Daehwi’s bedroom opens, and his mother pokes her head in. “Is everything all right, honey? I heard the door.”

“Yeah, Mom. Sorry about the noise. Did we wake you?”

Daehwi’s mother steps inside. “‘We’? Was Jinyoung here, too?”

“He left early,” Daehwi says. He points out the door. “That was him.”

His mother makes a face as she plops beside Daehwi on the bed. “Did he say why?”

“Not exactly. He had to get home fast. He left before I could ask.” Daehwi’s phone chimes. “Oh, that must be him now.”

 **baejin hyung ❤** ****  
sorry I bolted  
I was worried my mom would be mad   
running errands   
I’ll finish reading that article tonight   
see you at school tomorrow!

“‘Running errands’, hm?”

Daehwi startles, holding his phone to his chest as he covers the screen. “Geez, Mom! Don’t do that!” This wouldn’t be the first time she’s read Daehwi’s texts over his shoulder, unfortunately.

“Sounds pretty suspicious,” she says, shrugging.

“What are you, a detective?”

His mother tilts her head, considering this. “Nurse by night, detective by day. Well, I like the sound of that.” She stands, rubbing her chin. “My first case: what happened to my gold shimmer nail polish?”

“Oh my god— I borrowed it _one time_ , Mom!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dunno if i'll actually have the motivation to finish this OTL i have 4 more chapters i wanna write but idk how...... :| forgive me


End file.
